


Battle Born

by HeroismInACan



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, F/M, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shooting Guns, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-10-08 15:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10389432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroismInACan/pseuds/HeroismInACan
Summary: "His time away serving in a war far from home wasn’t his ideal situation, but he had made his decision and had to deal with the consequences. He never expected to be sent out on the frontlines right off the bat, though; apparently, the war was worse than anyone cared to mention."





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> All right! So here I present to you all a modern-ish AU of Jak and Daxter. It’s set mostly in Haven City during Jak II, but keep in mind that this is an AU. So I’m using the basic plot of Jak II, loosely, but with major twists. I also include characters from all of the games, not just Jak II. 
> 
> This work has also been beta-read by the lovely Solziv, who is writing her own story about this pairing titled Catalyst. She's actually the one who got me into these two and inspired me to write my own story.
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Returning to Haven City was something Jak only dreamt of, and to see it become a reality was a mild shock. Three years had passed since he last stepped foot in the familiar concrete jungle, but it felt longer than that, almost like ten years had passed by. His time away serving in a war far from home wasn’t his ideal situation, but he had made his decision and had to deal with the consequences. He never expected to be sent out on the frontlines right off the bat, though; apparently, the war was worse than anyone cared to mention.

Pushing open the door to _The Naughty Ottsel_ , Jak met with a nearly empty bar that had a small gathering around the back counter. Coming next to his immediate attention was that familiar drawl of his best friend, a noticeable Bronx accent flavoring his words. Sliding up to the counter and blending in with the rest of the crowd, Jak made it just in time to hear one of the infamous stories the redhead was known for.

“And there I was, leavin’ the bar late one night, when a hooded figure came up to me. I was all like, ‘sorry, bud, but we’re closed. Take a hike!’ But he wasn’t havin’ any of it! He pulled out a knife, and I know it was one by how it glinted in the poor lighting. I was quick when he went to go stab, and I danced to the side like a flash of lightnin’. That’s why I got my nickname, you know, Orange Lightnin’. Anyway, I managed to kick the blade from his hand, which startled him and scared him off. He was lucky he ran away before I got my hands on ‘im.” Accompanying Daxter’s flamboyant storytelling, his hands waved about and his voice spiked for dramatic effect, giving his words an extra _oomph_.

The crowd gave a murmuring of disbelief before slowly disbanding, leaving Daxter yelling after them that he had another story more interesting, but it was too late.

Daxter sighed and hung his head. He was about to slide off the counter top and shuffle away, but a voice stopped him.

“I think you needed a bit more excitement. You lost them halfway through,” Jak grinned. “I’ve heard better from you.”

Daxter’s body froze, and he seemed to shift all at once. His eyes fell on the blond, growing considerably in size. “Jak? Holy hell, _Jak_!” The redhead laughed, bounding from his perch on the counter to wrap his friend in a big hug. “You’re back earlier than you said you’d be! Why didn’t you tell me, huh? I woulda picked ya up.”

The ex-soldier hugged him back tightly, grinning and pulling away just enough to look at him with a sheepish smile. “Broke my phone.”

“’Course ya did, big guy.” Daxter patted his arm before taking a step back and soaking in the sight of the man before him. “So, how ya been? How was the army? Precursors, it’s been _three years_. You look good, though,” He ran a hand through his messy red mop, throwing a sideways smile toward Jak.

The blond laughed, “I wrote you, didn’t I? I told you what was happening, which was nothing exciting, honestly.”

“Nothing exciting happened while serving on the frontlines?” Daxter stared at him skeptically. “What, was the war already fought by the time you arrived?” Daxter countered the lame excuse, in return earning himself an unamused stare from his friend, which he laughed off. “Anyway, did ya meet anyone special while you were away? Any exotic lady friends from the desert?” Daxter wiggled his eyebrows, nudging the blond enough to earn a smile.

“And where would I have found the time to do that?” Jak shot back with good humor and a light chuckle.

Daxter smiled warmly. “True. Besides, you’ve always been antisocial. I bet you didn’t make a single friend while away, huh? Well, at least none who could replace me.” 

“No one could possibly replace you, Dax. You’re one of a kind.” Jak pushed him in the shoulder with another laugh, and suddenly Daxter was joining in, the two of them bursting at the seams with no real reason why.

When they quieted, Jak took a good look at his best friend and grinned. “I missed ya, Dax. It wasn’t the same without you.”

“I missed ya too, big guy.”

“You got a nice place here, by the way. I remember in one of your letters you telling me that you bought it, but how’d you afford it? And where the _hell_ did you come up with the name? Or the sign, for that matter.” The blond laughed and gave the bar a good once-over, noticing how the patrons who had crowded in the back had returned to their seats, before settling his eyes back on the redhead. Jak couldn’t help but notice how his friend seemed to finally grow into his large front teeth. Not much else had changed about Daxter though. He had the same striking red hair with gold undertones, the same wide smile and loud mouth, and the same scrawny yet deceivingly muscular build that was very much him. It was good to be home.

Jak narrowed his eyes abruptly as a thought struck him. “Wait, didn’t this place used to be _The Hip Hog_?”

Daxter chuckled, “You remember Krew? The dude who was, like, the size of one of those freight boats? Well, he croaked one day and his bar went up for sale. You know that Tess used to work for ‘im, so the moment _that_ mess started she told me. We talked about it, about starting a business together and sealing the deal, y’know. The name just came naturally to me, but you wanna know the cool thing? There’s a small apartment upstairs.” He hooked a thumb toward the door behind the bar and winked at Jak, who simply stared back with one eyebrow raised.

“What’s that look for, Dax?”

“An apartment. With two bedrooms. You know what that means, right?”

“Uh, am I supposed to?”

Daxter sighed dramatically. “Who’s back in town after three years with no place to stay? Who has an extra room and would love to have his best friend stay with him? Need I be more blunt, buddy?

“Oh.” Jak sat back a little, contemplating the news, and then it hit him. “ _Oh_. Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course I would. I’d be a real dick if I didn’t. You’re my brother, man.” The loudmouth hooked an arm around Jak’s shoulders and forced the taller man to slide off the stool he was perched upon. Jak had barely enough time to reach down and snatch his duffle bag before the redhead ushered him behind the counter and through the door.

Daxter flicked on a light once the door shut snugly behind them.

“What about the bar? And where’s Tess?” Jak looked down at his companion.

Daxter shrugged. “Tess was around serving, I think, but she’s got it handled. Besides, I gotta show ya yer room.” He led Jak through the bar’s kitchen and up a flight of stairs to the actual house part of the building, which consisted of a moderately-sized kitchen, a living room, a much bigger bathroom than Jak expected, and the two bedrooms. Daxter took him to the room at the far end of the hall and pushed the door open to reveal a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. “It ain’t much, but it’s a place to call home, right?” The redhead laughed, patting the bigger man on the shoulder.

Jak nodded, walking inside and dropping his bag on the floor just beside the bed. He turned to look at his friend. “Thanks, Dax. I honestly hadn’t thought of where I’d be staying.”

“Anytime, Jak. We’re brothers. That’s what we do.” He smiled warmly, retreating backwards through the door, “I’ll let ya settle. Come down to the bar whenever you’re ready, if ya want to. I know Tess would like see ya, but if you’re too tired, that’s all good. There’s always the morning.” With a wink, the redhead was gone and the ex-soldier was alone in the dimly lit room.

The blond faced the bed, the thought of unpacking and going back down to see Tess shattered by a massive yawn.

“There’s always the morning,” Jak echoed Daxter’s words with another yawn, kicking his boots off and peeling back the covers. After being on a train for a day, followed by a bus ride and then the walk to the bar itself, Jak didn’t want to think about anything but the soft mattress below him as he drifted off into a calm, deep sleep.

l

 

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Woken with a start, Jak shot upward in bed, panting and with sweat forming along his brow.

So much for a peaceful sleep, but then again, the fact he had acquired approximately three hours of undisturbed rest was a new record for him.

Throwing back the thin covers, nothing but a flat sheet and woven blanket, the blond planted his socked feet on the carpeted floor and rested his elbows on his knees with a heavy sigh. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed from when he first got on that train, probably a day or so by now, but regardless, it felt surreal to be home.

_Home_.

He hadn’t had a home in three years.

If he had known what fate had in store for him, he would’ve spared himself the pain and stayed right where he was in his oblivious world where life was good.

Blending back into the crowd after what he’d seen? After what he’d _endured_? Jak didn’t think that was possible, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice.

With a tired breath, the ex-soldier stood and meandered from his room and down the hallway to the living room situated across from the kitchen. He dropped heavily onto the couch, reaching for the television remote that sat on the coffee table, the same piece of furniture where his feet found comfort resting on.

He flicked on the television, a boxy thing with a bubbled screen, and raised an eyebrow at the old piece of technology before the screen crackled to life and a blond newscaster was pictured. The man was giving some report on the local races, but Jak was only half listening as he stared at the picture blankly. He changed the station, switching to a channel where some movie was playing. He heard gunfire and saw soldiers running through the crumbling buildings of a city, barking orders and raising their weapons, but all Jak saw was a pained shade of red before he hastily changed the channel again.

Channel after channel it was the same bullshit. News station after news station reporting on the war or some local crime committed, sitcom after sitcom displaying the same type of people in the same type of situations, reality shows about idiots living in a small space together, documentaries on animals ripping each other apart, movies filled with violence; _everything_ contributed to Jak’s budding headache and growing frustration.

Eventually, he shut the damned thing off and threw the remote at the wall just to the right of the TV, thankfully missing the old device, but the remote still clattered to the hardwood floor in various pieces. He vaguely had a flashback to his cellphone, which had recently suffered a similar fate.

Jak let his head fall backwards on the cushions, bringing his hands up to run over his face with a frustrated growl. He wished he could go back to sleep, but he knew what waited behind those closed lids. He’d rather not face those demons right now, or ever, for that matter.

Turning his head, Jak squinted and read the time on the stove as nine-thirty—just early enough for the bar to start coming alive and just late enough for the streets to be mostly empty.

Having made his decision, the blond pushed himself off the couch and made for his bedroom. He flicked on the light and snatched up his dusty boots, yanking them on as quickly as his shaking hands could manage. He didn’t bother with a coat as he hurriedly passed through the house, tromped down the stairs, and pushed through the door leading to the inside of the bar counter.

The stuffy air of the bar was constricting him to the point of near panic, so Jak quickly rushed for the door across the room and unceremoniously stumbled through it. He nearly collided with a young couple, both giving him dirty looks but only the male yelling a warning.

Jak hadn’t even noticed them as his lungs swallowed the cool air, the crispness allowing his brain to take a moment to breathe and calm down before he lost it. Quickly walking from the bar and toward the gun range, Jak ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl, earning a few strange looks from passerby.

Perhaps taking a spin at the gun range would help ease his mind? He always adored guns, which was probably part of the reason why he and Tess got along so well. A fleeting thought crossed his mind then, a thought of asking said bubbly blonde to join him at the range, but he quickly squashed it. He’d rather go to the range alone. He wanted the space and for his sole focus to be on shooting the target at the end of the line rather than holding up a conversation with someone, even if that someone was Tess.

Unfortunately, the range was closed at this late hour, which Jak suspected the moment his brain conjured up the initial thought. He’d have to come back tomorrow, or perhaps the following day, to vent his frustrations before he let them out on someone he cared about.

Continuing around the Port, Jak followed the path around the buildings and across the water until he was back in front of _The Naughty Ottsel_. The short walk helped clear his mind some. He hadn’t wanted to stray _too_ far from home, but at the same time it felt _too soon_.

As Jak contemplated going for another walk around, a yawn interrupted his thoughts. Although his brain still felt wired and his body felt abuzz with restlessness, he knew he couldn’t spend all night walking off his unease.

Sighing dejectedly, Jak returned to the bar and up to his room to attempt sleeping once more. If Daxter or Tess noticed his absence or noticed him hurriedly escape the bar only to come back however minutes later in a somber mood, neither mentioned it.


	2. Remember Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and thank you for reading!

Flashes, gunfire, screaming, thudding, scraping. Almost every night it was the same. He saw the same thing. He felt the same thing. He couldn’t shake the dread and he couldn’t stop the pain. He’d wake up a sweaty mess with a rough throat, tingling legs, and breathless lungs. Usually he was alone, or at least those who were in close enough vicinity didn’t bother waking him from the nightmares anymore. Even Jak was becoming used to the terror at night, although for him it was more like he was expecting the familiar visions to turn his entire world upside down and force him relive the worst two years of his life.

However, when the door to his bedroom swung open and a tired, distinctive voice greeted him with genuine concern, Jak forgot to breathe for a second and not because his lungs had just been overworked. No, for three years no one cared. It was kill or be killed, stay on top or be left behind, so he had gotten used to that mentality. Being home, being back in his old life with his best friend, was now foreign to him, but it was a comfort nonetheless. At least someone cared again.

“Dax?” Jak asked, voice sounding like gravel as he shielded his eyes from the bright hallway light seeping in through the open doorway.

“You alright, buddy? You were screamin’.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m—”

“Daxxie? Jak? Ya’ll okay?” Tess snuck into the doorway, blocking some of the harsh light and glancing between the redhead and the blond with tired concern.

“Yeah, Snookums, we’re good here. Go back to bed, yeah?” Dax drowsily winked at her, interrupting himself with a heavy yawn before watching her nod, cast Jak a sad smile, and then disappear.

Daxter flicked on the lamp, bathing the room in a pale, yellow light, before he closed the door and sat down on the corner of the bed. For once, the talkative redhead didn’t say a word. Patience wasn’t his’s highest skill, but when it came to Jak, he could wait an eternity and not mutter a peep.

“Sorry,” Jak eventually ground out, hanging his head and staring at his hands that rested on his lap.

“For what? Havin’ a nightmare?” Daxter scoffed. “Can’t be helped. No need to be sorry.”

“I woke you and Tess.”

“So? You could wake me up every hour on the hour and I wouldn’t complain—much.” The redhead smiled, but the gesture wasn’t returned. “What’s up, buddy? You’ve been here a few days now and all you seem to do is mope. I’ve seen how ya sneak out at night, too. What’s eatin’ ya?”

Jak shook his head, reverting to his mute self, as he had done when they were children.

Daxter sighed, opting to fill the silence himself since it was obvious the blond was choosing the silent route. “Y’know, you’re different. I know ya are. You’re still Jak somewhere under that hardened exterior, but yer not the same. What happened to ya out there, big guy? I can’t help if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” A short pause. “I don’t wanna push ya, but I’m worried. At least talk to me, or just say something. You don’t have to tell me everything, I don’t think I _want_ to know everything. Just talk. Let me know yer alright. I’ve heard that soldiers who come home aren’t always the same as when they left. I can understand that. I know you’ve seen some things that no man should have to see in his lifetime, but I’m not a dimwit, Jak. Yer home a year early. Ya stopped writin’ after a year. Somethin’ _happened_ out there.”

Jak glanced up at him, not surprised in the least at just how perceptive the redhead could be. He wanted to tell his best friend all the horrors he had faced, all of the torture he had endured, but what good would it do? He’d only put bad images in Daxter’s head and make him worry needlessly, and besides, Jak honestly didn’t _want_ to talk about it. Talking meant reliving it, and what he went through deserved to be buried.

“Why’d ya stop writin’?” Daxter leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, interrupting the blond’s thoughts. “At least tell me that much.”

The ex-soldier released a shaky breath, moving his hands to cover his face and hold his head in his palms. He spoke quietly, so quiet that he felt the bed dip as Daxter got closer to hear him better. “They don’t tell you everything until it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?” Daxter raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

With a shuddering sigh, Jak released a torrent of information he’d hoped to just bury, but suddenly it was spilling from his lips without his permission, “I wasn’t expecting to jump straight into the action. I wasn’t expecting to be sent out on the frontlines with just a rifle and told to shoot anything that moved.” He paused to catch himself, his next words coming out as barely a whisper, “I wasn’t expecting to be thrown away and ‘fed’ to those creeps. To the Metal Heads.”

Daxter tilted his head, his eyes growing wide as he took in this information.

The blond didn’t wait for his companion to respond before adding, “Least of all, I never expected to become their _plaything_.”

“Plaything?”

“In _prison_ ,” Jak spat, moving his hands from his face and returning them to his lap. He clenched both into fists and kept his gaze cast angrily down at the cotton sheet covering his legs, as if that fabric were the one to cause all of his problems.

Daxter laughed nervously. “Uh, what do ya mean ‘prison,’ Jak?”

“That’s why I didn’t write you anymore.” Jak shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, hands flexing before refolding into fists.

“By the Precursors,” Daxter whispered, straightening his posture and staring at the wall dead ahead. For once in the redhead’s life, he was at an utter loss for words and was the one to fall mute.

The two shared an oddly comfortable silence as Daxter soaked in this new information.

It explained so much, like how jumpy Jak was or how he kept to himself a lot of the time even when Daxter was around. This was all the more reason to try and get him out and about to live life instead of wasting away in fear, but at least now Daxter had an understandable reason for his best friend’s newly acquired, reclusive demeanor.

The redhead slowly turned to look at the ex-soldier, a deep sadness taking over his otherwise cheery face as he tried to say something, _anything_ , to comfort his lifelong friend. Nothing came to mind, and instead he was left gaping like a fish out of water as he tried desperately to break the building silence.

Jak beat him to it.

“I learned some things while I was in captivity.” The blond lifted his head and looked at his best friend with a tight-lipped smile and hard eyes. There was a deep pain underlying the vivid blue of his irises, and paired with the poor lighting, the color almost appeared purple. “The leader of the Metal Heads is conspiring with the Baron.” 

At this, Daxter’s eyes rivaled the size of a dinner plate. “What?”

“Turns out that they don’t tell us anything even remotely close to the truth about this war. All of those newscasters are full of it, and the government is even worse. How could they send us out there to our deaths without batting an eye?” Jak’s face contorted into a combination of anger and sorrow, a look that used to be rare but lately held a new sort of prominence.

Before being sent off to fight, Jak was a happy man. Being just barely eighteen when he signed up to serve his country and help put an end to the rumblings in the desert, he had no reason to be angry. He had been so excited to get out and help, to get out and do something to make the world a better place. Now all Daxter saw was a broken man who’d matured alone in a place where his comrades were being picked off before his eyes. He saw a man who lost his spark of peace, his last slice of happiness, all because he was sent to the slaughterhouse.

Daxter swallowed thickly, barely managing to scrape out his next words. “How’d you make it out of there?”

Jak looked up from the bedding to stare at his friend. “His name was Sig.”

Daxter shook his head and looked at the blond in a short moment of stunned silence. When the redhead finally found his voice again, he laughed humorlessly. “I owe this man a thousand thanks.”

The blond nodded mutely, returning his gaze back to his lap as he pondered a new round of thoughts bombarding his mind. He wondered what had happened to Sig. After he was saved, he honestly didn’t remember much. It was a blur, but whatever the case, he just hoped the man whom he owed his life to had made it out alive.

Daxter swallowed another lump and frowned, crossing his arms and resting one hand just under his chin in thought. After a beat of silence, he asked softly, “Will you be okay?”

Jak faltered, not sure how to answer the question, but slowly he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The redhead smiled sadly at him, not oblivious to the slight hesitation but deciding against pointing it out. He turned his head away with a deep frown replacing his somber smile, staring at the nightstand. “What can I do?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay, Dax. If I need to talk, I’ll find you.” The blond smiled, the exhaustion evident on his face as he tried to uplift his friend’s spirits even when he himself was down and broken.

Jak surprised himself by how much he shared, but he felt almost a touch lighter having gotten even that small bit of information off his chest. It was a start.

Daxter simply nodded and stood, resisting the urge to place a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “I’m still gonna worry, big guy. Yer my only family, excluding Tess of course. Yer important to me, and the fact that this happened boils my blood to no end. If I ever get my hands on those pricks who hurt ya, they’ll be prayin’ to the Precursors, wishin’ that they hadn’t messed with the wrong guys.”

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Fruit Loops floated aimlessly in a bowl of milk. Periodically, a spoon pushed them around, disturbing the peace. Sometimes the spoon would come down and crush one of the sugary circles, or push it under the milk and hold it there before releasing it.

Jak would watch with tired eyes as the colorful bit of cereal would bubble back to the surface after being submerged, and then he’d resume the cycle with another sugary bit. Once Daxter left him after his nightmare, Jak couldn’t fall back to sleep. Every time he tried, shadows of his recent past danced behind his lids and jolted him back to sluggish alertness.

His mind had raced with too many emotions, too many thoughts and worries, so he ended up lying there, staring at the darkened ceiling, until sunlight crept through his drawn curtains and officially roused him from bed.

And now here he sat, still plagued by the same darkened thoughts and crushing worry as he was when Daxter tried to comfort him.

So lost in thought now, Jak hadn’t heard the soft footsteps joining him in the kitchen. He hadn’t seen the body move to stand in front of him, or notice how the person cleared their throat to get his attention.

A firm “Jak” suddenly startled him though, and he abruptly dropped his spoon into his bowl with a loud _clank_ before snapping to attention.

Tess stood before him, dressed in denim shorts and a green tank top. A headband pulled her blonde hair back, but her bangs fell loose and framed her face. She was frowning at him, concern glinting in her blue eyes.

“Yeah?” Jak tried to cover his jumpiness with a clearing of the throat, but obviously, the woman staring at him didn’t buy it.

“How are you holding up?” She tilted her head, that concerned look replaced with a warm smile. Tess had been a friend for years, and when he and Daxter had met her for the first time one evening at the old _Hip Hog Heaven Saloon_ , the redhead had taken an instant liking to her. Jak always knew that they’d end up together even though Daxter had been skeptical due to his homely looks.

The blonde cast him a sideways look as she moved from the table and opened the fridge. After a moment of looking, she retrieved a bottle of water and turned to look at the ex-soldier with her full attention.

“Fine.” Jak nodded, eyeing the woman skeptically.

“Good.” She smiled. “Did you have any plans for the day?”

Jak shook his head without missing a beat. “Nope.”

“Did you _want_ to have plans for the day?” She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile now twisting her lips instead.

The ex-soldier chuckled. “Well, that depends on what you have in mind.”

“Visiting Keira.” She cracked open her water bottle and took a long drink, before recapping it and putting it on the counter to her left. Tess leaned her backside against the kitchen counter and chuckled. “I told her you were back and she got excited. She wants to see you.”

Jak rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, knowing that he should have told the green-haired woman that he was back days ago. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. He knew Tess was good friends with Keira, so it wasn’t a surprise that the news regarding his return spilled.

After another quiet moment of contemplating, the blond nodded his head. “Yeah. It’d be good to see her.”

Tess grinned, pushing off the counter and snatching up her bottle of water. “When would you like to go?”

Jak looked down at his bowl of soggy cereal and then right back up to Tess. “I suppose now works.” It wasn’t like he was going to be finishing that mess he left his bowl, and he wasn’t exactly hungry at the moment anyway.

Daxter chose then to saunter into the kitchen; sweat pants untied, shirt missing, and a lazy smile plastered on his face. He nodded to Jak and winked at Tess. “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’, Daxxie.” Tess leaned over when Daxter met her near the counter and gave him a quick peck to the cheek.

The redhead hummed, whispering something in the blonde’s ear that Jak, thankfully, couldn’t hear. Whatever it was caused her to start giggling, and she covered her mouth partially with a hand before Daxter broke away with a grin and fetched himself a bowl from the cupboard.

“Ya sleep okay, big guy?” Daxter asked over his shoulder, removing the box of Fruit Loops from the next cupboard over and proceeding to fill his bowl.

“Yeah, slept fine.” Jak shrugged, standing and taking his bowl to the sink to wash. He decided to change the subject before either of his companions chose to comment. “Are we all going to see Keira?”

“We’re gonna go see Keira?” Daxter raised an eyebrow, snacking on a few dry pieces of cereal from his own bowl before he drowned the sugary bits in milk.

“She wants to see Jak,” Tess chimed in, “And I think it’d be good for all of us to get out of the house together and go see a friend.”

“Right, right.” The redhead nodded, plopping down at the table, only to realize too late that he had forgotten to grab a spoon. “Tessie, ya mind gra—oh.” Tess already had a spoon held out for him, laughter escaping her lips as he gratefully took the utensil with a happy sigh.

“What would I do without ya?”

“For starters, you’d probably be trying to eat your cereal with a butter knife again.” She leaned over and planted a warm kiss on his forehead.

“Hey! That was _one_ time, woman!” He brandished his spoon at Tess, but the threatening tone and gesture shattered from his laughter.

“Twice, but who’s counting?” She gave the redhead’s shoulders a firm squeeze before darting away and toward the staircase. “All right, boys, I’ll be down at the bar. When you’re ready we’ll get going to the Stadium.”

Jak realized he hadn’t bothered washing his dish. He’d been entranced by watching the exchange between Daxter and Tess, and even when she disappeared down the stairs, he couldn’t help the surge of happiness that overcame him. They really were perfect for each other.

“Jak? Buddy? You okay? Yer, uh, fading out of focus here.” Daxter tilted his head to the side.

Snapping himself out of it, the blond smiled reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m fine. A little tired, but fine.”

“Right, well, I guess we’ll be skedaddlin’ as soon as we’re ready.”

Jak hummed, finishing washing up his mess before he excused himself to his room to get dressed. He was feeling a little nervous about meeting with the green-haired woman, but he knew he had to get over this. He couldn’t just ignore her, just like he couldn’t ignore his problems.

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The trip to the Stadium in Daxter’s beat up, crudely painted orange cruiser, a vehicle that he and Jak had actually scrounged up money for before the latter decided to join the army, took roughly half an hour. It was weird to see how the city hadn’t actually changed as much as he had expected it to, but he supposed that was a good thing.

Once at the Stadium, the trio parked and made their way up the stairs on the left, passing through the security gates and toward the racing garages. Entering the first archway they came to, a section of the garage that openly connected to the next room, they met with cluttered tables and partial vehicles, along with heavy machinery and various types of equipment. 

“The Demolition Duo, and lovely blonde babe, have arrived!” Daxter announced with a flourish, earning a giggle from Tess and a roll of the eyes from Jak.

Keira Hagai, the green-haired mechanic who Jak and Daxter had been friends with since they were children, emerged from the neighboring room with a wrench in hand and a bewildered look on her face. Apparently, no one told her to expect company.

Her eyes fell on Jak, and any reprimanding phrase she might have been preparing to dish out died on her tongue. She suddenly closed the distance between herself and the ex-soldier and wrapped her arms too tightly around his neck in an embrace.

Jak couldn’t help the flinch that wracked his body from the sudden contact, but before he could react, Keira was letting go and stepping back to admire the man before her. If she noticed his lack of enthusiasm at the embrace, or the sheer fact he didn’t return the gesture, then she chose to not say anything on the matter.

“I’m so glad you’re back, and that you’re okay!” Keira clasped her hands together, but noticed she was still holding a wrench and put it down on a table near her.

“It’s good to be back,” He smiled faintly, running a hand through the short locks of hair at the back of his neck.

The mechanic folded her arms in front of her, donning a thoughtful look. “Weren’t you supposed to serve another year before they let you go?”

Jak hesitated, averting his gaze to the table beside her. “Yeah, I was supposed to. Some, uh, complications came up and they let me go early.”

“Well, either way, we’re all happy to see you back. You’ll have to stop by my place later and say hello to Daddy. He’s been worried about you.” She smiled gently at the blond.

“Yeah, will do,” The ex-soldier nodded almost robotically, his eyes moving away from Keira and over toward Daxter and Tess, the latter of which was no longer near them but instead was standing in the second archway leading into the other part of the garage, the one Hagai had come from, speaking to a woman with blue hair.

Keira followed his gaze, but before she could speak, Daxter beat her to the punch.

“Ah, good ol’ Bloo has made an appearance at last. I was wonderin’ when she’d show up. She sure knows how to brighten _anyone’s_ mood.”

“Bloo?” Jak raised an eyebrow, looking between Keira and Daxter.

“Her name is Taryn,” Keira answered, chuckling at the nickname.

“Taryn?”

The redhead laughed, “An old work buddy. She and I used to do some exterminator jobs around town until the business closed. Now she works here with Keira as a mechanic-in-training. How about introducing yerself?” Daxter pulled on Jak’s arm, tugging him toward the two women.

Jak could hear their hushed tones as they discussed something probably important. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but as they neared the duo, the hushed words became clearer.

“—Underground is looking for new recruits. I was thinking maybe—”

But the loudmouth he called his brother whistled at that moment, interrupting the intriguing conversation and earning a smile from Tess and an amused look from the blue-haired beauty to her side. Green eyes suddenly met with blue and a more serious smile turned the mysterious woman’s lips.

The ex-soldier would be lying if he said his heart didn’t stutter just a little.

“Ah, you must be Jak.” Her voice was lightly tinted with an unfamiliar accent.

He nodded. “And you must be Taryn.”

She hummed and shifted her weight, resting one hand on a hip. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Terrible things, I presume?” Jak smiled. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander briefly, glancing over the red crop top and loose cargo pants she wore. When his attention snapped back to her face, he noticed how her blue locks were pulled into a low ponytail, loose strands falling around her face.

“Depends on who I was talking to, really.” She winked, maintaining eye contact for a moment before she broke it to face Keira. “Got anything for me to work on today?”

“Just the usual repairs.” Keira shrugged, gesturing to where some of the racing bikes were leaning on kickstands in a neat row near the far wall. “Oh! Actually, we did have a new racing model come in a few days ago.” Excitement lit up Hagai’s countenance as she turned on her heel and made way for a curtain concealing the back corner of the room. She paused to wave at Jak. “We’ll talk more later when we’ve got time.”

The ex-soldier returned the gesture, but his attention was grabbed by a streak of blue crossing his vision.

Taryn smiled briefly at Jak as she passed him, trailing the mechanic until she reached the cloth blockade.

Jak had been watching her retreating backside until she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “I’ll be seeing you around, _Blondie_.” And then she was gone, the curtain flapping closed behind her and successfully cutting his view off.

“Yeah.” The ex-soldier blinked slowly, the nickname reminding him of an old buddy he knew in the army. He looked back at Tess and Daxter and raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the looks on their faces. “What?”

Tess hid a smile with her hand, but she didn’t bother stopping her laughter from slipping free. “Oh, nothing.”

Daxter simply smirked and nudged Jak in the ribs. “Gotcha eyes on somethin’, huh?”

Suddenly Jak’s cheeks took on a light tinge of pink, and he pushed past the two as he hurriedly left the garage, his reunion with the mechanic cut short. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The busty blonde smiled innocently. “Don’t think we’re gonna let this slip by, Jak.”

Ignoring their continued laughter and quiet murmurings, Jak, joined by company, climbed into their rusty cruiser. Before he started the vehicle, however, his mind returned to the snippet of conversation he had heard. A thousand questions swirled around his brain, and he knew the only way to get answers was to ask.

Now was as good a time as ever.

He looked to Tess, who had apparently called shotgun as she sat in the passenger seat, and narrowed his eyes at her. He remained quiet for a long minute, which earned him a curious eyebrow raise from the blonde barmaid.

“Yes, Jak?”

“Who’s looking for new recruits?”

Tess hesitated, looking to Daxter for reassurance, who nodded at her.

Jak followed her stare, narrowing his gaze now at Daxter. “You know too?”

“It’s a resistance group who opposes the Baron,” Tess answered, bringing Jak’s confused stare back onto her. “We’re working to end Baron Praxis’ oppression on Haven.”

“Tattooed Wonder is one of the orchestrators for the whole deal, him and this dude called The Shadow. I ain’t never met that one, but I haven’t been in this little group for very long.” Daxter leaned his elbows on the backs of both front seats, sloping forward between Jak and Tess with a toothy grin.

“Tattooed Wonder?” The ex-soldier stared at his friend with an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s a weirdo, but a good guy, I suppose. Hard to trust ‘im when he’s in with the enemy, but whatever,” The redhead carelessly flicked a wrist.

Tess rolled her eyes. “He’s talking about Torn. He’s a Captain in the Krimzon Guard, but he’s looking to get out. So, he may be _among_ the ‘enemy,’ but he’s not one of them, per say.” 

“Same difference.” Daxter shrugged.

“Were you asking Taryn to join?” Jak tilted his head, keeping his voice low. He started up the cruiser then, gliding it out of the parking space before joining the traffic.

“Yeah. She’s got some good information and contacts. She’s not officially with us, but sometimes she’ll pass on some useful info or work a job or two.” Tess smiled. “Did you want to join the cause, too?”

“That depends. What would I have to do?” Jak countered.

“Honestly? Pass on information and help us any way you feel comfortable.” Tess shrugged, crossing her arms as they hovered through the streets, passing the Water Slums and heading into the shady part of town. “We could really use all the help we can get.”

Jak hummed, noticing how the traffic seemed to pick up all of a sudden. He glanced at his quiet passengers, noticing how Tess was staring thoughtfully at the buildings to her right and Daxter was resting his elbow on the armrest looking bored.

They were halfway through the Slums and heading for the Industrial Zone, when Jak spoke up, “I’d like to join.”

Tess turned to look at him, and Daxter perked up with interest.

“Really?” The blonde barmaid smiled.

Jak nodded. “All I’ve wanted to do was help, Tess. That’s why I joined the Army. I wasn’t able to help that way, so maybe I can help this way instead? I’ll do what I can for the cause. At least I’ll be doing _something_ , which is better than sitting and _moping_ , as you called it.” At the last bit, he cast a playful smirk toward the redhead.

Daxter leaned forward again, interest coloring his expression as he caught and held Jak’s stare. After a long minute of silence passed between the two, Daxter switched his gaze to Tess with a massive grin. “Jak’s got some juicy bits on the Baron, anyway. His information could really change the game, y’know?”

Tess’ eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Jak dipped his head curtly.

“Well, what is it?” Tess was nearly bouncing in her seat, her curiosity in the matter becoming hard to contain.

Jak shrugged at Daxter, who took the invitation with pleasure. “The Metal Heads are in cahoots with the Baron.”

Tess didn’t have anything to say to that right away. A cloud of shock briefly overshadowed her eyes, before a realization hit her slowly. “That makes sense, actually. One of the last puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.” She shifted in her seat to look at Daxter, “We have to tell Torn.”

“Do you want to go now?” Jak glanced at his passengers. “Considering we’re already out and about.”

“If you don’t mind?” Tess chewed on her bottom lip.

The blond shook his head. If they didn’t go do this now, he doubted he’d be in the mood for it later. He already didn’t feel like dealing with a new face, but he supposed he’d spent long enough sitting around doing nothing. This was his time to finally do something, which was what he wanted all along.

“Where to, then?” Jak turned his gaze on the airway in front of them, awaiting directions.

Tess beamed, but Daxter was the one to navigate. “Turn around when ya get a chance. We already passed it.”

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The Underground was located in probably the worst part of town—the Slums. They walked past numerous people who had seen better days, most of which apparently didn’t _have_ a shower, let alone know what one was.

To think this town, _his_ town, had a part of the city this bad made Jak more than a little angry, but he held back any comments as the trio continued to walk from where they parked their cruiser to an alley that dead-ended, avoiding potholes along the way.

They came to a door that slowly slid open for them, and Jak followed behind Daxter and Tess inside the crude hideout.

“Hey there, Tattooed Wonder! How’s life treatin’ ya?” Daxter gave a mock salute to a man leaning against a rounded table in the middle of the room. Said table held various maps and papers, and on the back wall, newspaper clippings decorated the stone in seemingly random order. Some were marked with red pen, while others showed signs of old age, the yellowed tint to the paper and torn edges being the giveaways.

The tattooed man grunted, eyes locking onto the blond, who was a whole head taller than the redhead leading him in. He didn’t give Daxter the light of day, but he did nod mutely at Tess as the trio fanned out around the table.

The hideout was smaller than Jak initially expected, but upon further inspection, he realized it housed everything a hideout might need. That included bunkbeds, which stood in rows lining the hallway just after the stairs to the main entrance, a fireplace, which stood nearly forgotten to the left, a sorry excuse for a kitchen off to the right, and a smaller hallway branching off from the kitchen that revealed two closed doorways.

With a scowl, the dreadlocked man grumbled, “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Introductions and information,” Tess smiled, leaning her hands on the table as she briefly caught the tattooed man’s gaze.

“Jak, this is Torn, Torn, this is Jak.” Daxter took it upon himself to introduce the two, smiling and gesturing to each man in turn.

Jak nodded, deciding to remain quiet, but kept eye contact. Torn appeared to be well-built, and he was wearing casual attire of a white T-shirt and black jeans. The intricate tattoo on the man’s face was something Jak had never seen before, and it made him wonder why anyone in their right mind would get something like that on such a visible part of their body.

Torn had the same idea to fall into silence as the two had a soundless staring contest, sizing one another up. It wasn’t until Daxter loudly interrupted that Torn ripped his gaze away to look at the obnoxious redhead.

“Jak here has some dirt on the Baron, that’s the information part of our little visit.” Daxter moved to stand beside his friend, looking up at him encouragingly and nudging said male with an elbow.

“Does he now?” The dreadlocked male crossed his arms, turning those scrutinizing eyes on the blond as he waited to hear what he had to say.

Jak cast a quick glance to Daxter before he focused on Torn. A sudden lump formed in his throat, but he moved past it. This was important to get out, and he wouldn’t let himself stand in his own way. “I overheard the Metal Head leader speaking with a representative from Baron Praxis. They’re working together for some reason.”

Torn’s expression didn’t seem to change from the news, but he did cast his eyes downward in a thoughtful silence. After a few long minutes, he slowly nodded his head. “I had a feeling something like this was happening. It adds up with what I overheard from the palace a little while ago.” Suddenly the brunet straightened and locked his eyes back on Jak. “If you want to join us, you’ll have to prove yourself. Just a little tidbit of information isn’t enough to win my trust, even if you are friends with Tess.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to kiss ass.”

Torn chuckled, a tight smile temporarily replacing his scowl. “Manual labor is more my sort of thing.”

“So I’ll be doing all the crap you don’t want to do until you deem me trustworthy?” Jak tilted his head, crossing his arms.

“Take it or leave it, newbie,” Torn challenged.

Jak grunted, leaving his answer to be interpreted by the following silence.

Daxter frowned, “Man, you got off easy compared to me. You know what this asshat had me do? Deliver a damn package to someone all the way across to the Stadium. When I got there, the person said I was at the wrong place and sent me to the Gardens instead. From there it was to the bar, then to the Water Slums, and _eventually_ I made my way back to Torn, here.” With a grumpy pout, Daxter crossed his arms. “And you know what he said to me?” The redhead cleared his throat, attempting to imitate Torn—although doing a poor job. “Oh, thanks. I’ve been expecting a package any minute now.” He threw his hands up in the air, but all he received was a snicker from Torn, a comforting pat from Tess, and a roll of the eyes from Jak.

The tattooed man switched the conversation back onto the blond after Daxter’s vocal escapade was over, “So, what’s _your_ story?”

“What do you mean?” The blond raised an eyebrow.

“You were in the army?”

 “Yeah. I served just past Spargus, fighting in the war.”

“Surprised you made it back in one piece. Usually those who get sent out that far don’t come back. I heard they’ve been sending all the newbies to the frontlines.” He leaned his backside against the table, tilting his head to the side. “I served my time, too. If it weren’t for an injury taking me out of active duty I would still probably be out there or dead by now. Although the KG aren’t any better in my opinion.”

Jak crossed his arms. “I think I would have rather taken my chances being with the KG than out there on the frontlines. At least guarding the city has a purpose. What they had us doing out there was pointless.”

“It’s always been a pointless effort. Those Metal Head bastards don’t stop.” Torn glanced down at the maps.

Jak moved his head in agreement, but a thought struck him. “How are you still in the KG but also running a resistance? Won’t you get caught?”

“Probably, if I stay in the guard any longer than I am. I’ll be defecting soon enough.”

Jak didn’t get the chance to respond due to Daxter’s cheery voice cutting in, “And when you defect you’ll be a wanted man, won’tcha?”

“I will, but that’s what I have rats like you for.”

Daxter snorted. “It ain’t like you’ll be trapped in here. You can show yer face, can’tcha?”

“Yeah, because these tattoos just wash right off.” Torn rolled his eyes, but before the redhead could retort the brunet flicked a hand toward them. “As soon as I’ve got something for you, I’ll let you know.” He then turned to Tess. “Any luck?”

The blonde shook her head. “No. I did talk to her though. She said she’s thinking about it. If she stops by here one of these days then you know what her answer is.”

Torn shrugged. “I guess so long as she keeps feeding us information I don’t exactly care.”

Tess nodded, changing the subject, “How’s Ashe?”

Raising one eyebrow, the brunet looked at the blonde with mild amusement. “She’s fine. Busy, like we all are.”

She hummed, “As long as you’re both doing good, then.” She faced the redhead and fellow blond. “You boys ready to go?”

Daxter nodded, but Jak furrowed his brows.

“Who’s Ashe?”

“None of your business, that’s who,” Torn countered.

The ex-soldier wore his mouth in a tight line. “Then what about this ‘Shadow’ person?”

The brunet’s eyes narrowed. “My answer remains the same”

When Jak tried to retort, the dreadlocked man interrupted him. “When you’ve earned my trust, _maybe_ The Shadow will feel like meeting you and _maybe_ you’ll meet Ashe. Until then, you’ll be The Underground’s lapdog.”

Jak huffed, but the bubbly blonde cut in between the two men with a smile, “We’ll be seeing you then, Torn. Take care of yourself, okay?” Tess patted him gently on the arm before moving past her boyfriend and the ex-soldier toward the hideout entrance.

Daxter grinned, too much enthusiasm lacing his words, “Alrighty then, Tattooed Wonder! We’ll be seein’ ya!”

Jak wordlessly followed the duo as they made it back outside, the heavy metal door clicking closed with a loud _thunk_. So many questions were whirling through his mind, most of which he could probably finagle out of his current company, but he chose to sit back and wait instead. Now didn’t feel like the right time to go prying into affairs he only just touched the surface of.

“Isn’t he a ray of sunshine?” Daxter remarked with a chuckle, looking over at Jak with a toothy grin.

The blond joined his laughter, letting his dampened mood lighten. “Yeah, but honestly he doesn't seem _too_ bad. Got a temper, but then again, so do I. Weirdest thing is probably those tattoos, really.”

“I hear it’s a guard thing, so even if you defect they know,” Daxter commented with a shrug of his shoulders.

Tess nodded. “Only high-ranking officials, though. If a guard takes off his helmet, he reverts to his normal self. He can mingle with the common folk and no one would be any the wiser, but a Captain is forced to live with his choices etched onto his face, so not only he knows, but the people, too.”

Jak didn’t have anything to say to that. The very idea of marking people like that made him sick. And here he was thinking that the Metal Heads were worse, but all along the Baron, the leader of Haven City, was just as bad as the people they were sent out to fight.


	3. Under and Over It

Jak was grateful that the gun range was literally down the street from _The Naughty Ottsel_. On days like today, when the ex-soldier was on the verge of tearing his own skin off, the short walk was a gift sent by the Precursors themselves.

As he neared the entrance, the heavy metal door slid open at a snail’s pace. Normally, Jak wouldn't mind, but today he was ready to tear the damned thing out of the wall if it didn't move faster.

Restlessly hopping from foot-to-foot, the blond slipped into the building the moment the door opened enough for him to fit through. The middle-aged man standing behind the counter to the left looked up from the movement.

Jak offered a tight smile, moving to stand in front of him. “Morning.”

The man dipped his head in greeting. “Mornin'. You here to let off some steam, young man?”

The blond bobbed his head, remaining mute.

“Right, well, ya got your ID?”

Jak patted his pockets until he found his wallet, slipping it free and flipping it open. He removed his ID and handed it over.

The man, whose name badge read Erik, took the thick plastic piece and handed over a sheet of paper in place of it. “Sign the bottom, please, and make sure to read the rules before you enter the range.” He briefly glanced to Jak’s neck, noticing the colorful earmuffs—pink and orange swirled around a white background with daises scattered here and there. The man simply rose an eyebrow but did not question the blond’s choice of ear protection. He’d probably seen worse. His eyes then traveled north, spotting a pair of strange goggles resting on Jak’s head. One lens was large and red in color, whereas the other was smaller and colored entirely silver. “What will you be shooting today? And did you need targets?”

The blond shifted the case of bullets he was holding to the same hand with his weapon, scribbling a signature where indicated. “My nine millimeter. And yeah, I'll take two.”

“Right, right. Help yourself then.” Erik gestured to the door at the end of the small lobby, then pointed at the rack of paper targets situated at the end of the counter. “And pick any two you'd like.”

Jak nodded and moved toward the rack, picking out two at random—one in a pattern of circles and another dotted with black squares—and then briefly stopped to review the rules. He pushed through the door, which led straight to another door that wore a bright sign reading 'Must Have Protection Beyond This Point.' The ex-soldier placed his gun case and bullets down on a convenient shelf to his right to reach up and pull on the colorful earmuffs he wore around his neck. He then tugged his goggles over his eyes before he moved forward through the second blockade, picking up his things on the way.

Since entering the gun range, he hadn't heard a single shot echo through the building, so to say he was surprised by seeing someone in the room was an understatement. However, upon further inspection of his company, Jak couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in further surprise.

“Taryn?” He called, voice louder than normal to make up for the lack of hearing for both parties. She was clad in dark cargo pants, heavy boots, and a cropped T-shirt in a deep shade of red. The choker around her neck was black, and her blue locks of hair were pulled back in a high ponytail.

The blue-haired woman didn't seem to hear him the first time, so he tried a little louder.

“TARYN!”

With a start, she jumped and whirled around. After the moment of panic passed, Taryn released a breath and laughed. “Oh, you startled me . . . what in Precursors name are _those?_ ”

“What?” The ex-soldier’s eyes widened, but when he realized she was pointing at his face, he assumed she was talking about either his goggles or earmuffs, more likely the latter.

“I didn’t take you for a daisy sort of guy.” The blue-haired woman snickered, shifting her weight onto her right leg and crossing her arms. “Nor an aficionado of the color pink.”

Jak rolled his eyes. “Hey now. Don’t mock the earmuffs, and what’s wrong with pink?”

Taryn mimicked his eye roll, uncrossing her arms to rest one hand on her hip.

“Anyway, what brings you here so early?”

“You call nine o’clock early?” She scoffed. “Practice, really. Maybe a little bit of venting, too. When you really hate someone, coming to the range can be awfully therapeutic.” She gave him a quick glance over, noticing the dark blue jeans tucked into a pair of black tactical boots and gray T-shirt pulled over a firm torso.

Jak laughed. “I'd hate to be on the receiving end of _your_ wrath.” He bit back the question of who held her hatred, feeling that it was too personal of a question to ask someone he met only a month ago.

The blue-haired woman beamed, her green gaze darting down to the black case he held. She tilted her head. “What’re you shooting?”

“Nine mil. You?” He glanced beside her at the handgun that sat on the bench, where her other belongings, such as several gun cases, bullets, et cetera, lay scattered. Her target was pulled up close, most of the shots, except for a stray few, had hit the centers of the black and red circles scattered about.

“Forty-five caliber.” She followed his gaze over her shoulder to look at where her weapon lay—a simple black thing with silver details along the handle—and then turned back to him. “But I also have my fifty cal. Desert Eagle with me and a few thirty-eights.” She paused in thought, and then a coy smile turned her lips. “Want to make a game out of this?”

Jak quirked an eyebrow. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

She shrugged. “Worst shot buys lunch?”

The blond mulled over her words, and after a long moment of contemplation, he nodded. “Okay. Why not? Hope you brought enough cash.”

Taryn snickered, but moved and carefully pulled down her used target. She put up a fresh one while Jak prepared himself in the booth beside her.

He used the lever to his right to bring the target holder closer, hanging up the fresh sheet with the circles on it, before returning it to the midpoint of the range. He then removed his nine millimeter from its case, making sure to stick the orange zip tie in the barrel to show it was cleared. He removed the empty clips and opened his bullet case, starting to feed the bullets in. He only stopped to look behind him when he felt a pair of eyes on his back.

He smiled at Taryn, who returned the gesture and gave him a thumbs up before disappearing again.

Jak kept the grin on his face even as he resumed loading his clip, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. He hadn’t felt something like that since the early days of his relationship with Keira, but even that didn’t last long. Thankfully, his blue-haired companion started shooting, and although the initial sound took him by surprise even though he had been expecting it, he was able to use the sound as a distraction as he finished his task.

He only prayed the loud noises didn’t stir up a migraine, something that had plagued him since his time in captivity.

Once he loaded his handgun with a clip, he took the zip tie out of the barrel and took his aim, pulling back and letting his finger hit the trigger until his clip was empty. He repeated until he had to load up again, and by then, Taryn’s side had gone quiet.

He put his gun down and squinted at the target, pulling it closer to get a better look. He hit the circles pretty much every time, but _where_ he hit varied. Most were concentrated where he wanted them, around the middles, but some strayed and got the outer edges. He returned the zip tie and moved to the booth beside his, watching as Taryn loaded her own clips before looking up to meet his gaze.

The blue-haired beauty winked at him before looking at her target. It was an assortment of squares, of which she managed to hit every single one with incredible aim.

“Not bad.” A coy smile lit up his face.

Taryn matched his expression, putting down her half-loaded clip to peek around the corner at his hanging sheet. She raised an eyebrow when she noticed that his were concentrated pretty well in the circles. “Not bad _yourself_ , Blondie.”

“Blondie?” The ex-soldier raised an eyebrow. “An old Army buddy used to call me that.”

“Oh.”

“It’s cool. From my knowledge, he’s still alive, or at least I hope, so it’s not hitting any sore spots. It just caught me off guard is all.” Jak chuckled quietly. “Anyway, you down for a couple more rounds?”

She nodded and continued loading her bullets, Jak doing the same as he filled two clips and resumed emptying them into the paper target.

Another round passed. More holes littered both targets, and the blond’s thumbs were aching faintly from reloading the clips, but it was worth it. All of his time spent here was worth it, and although he had preferred to be alone when venting out his anger through harmless shooting, he was glad Taryn was there.

He didn’t know a damn thing about the woman, but she intrigued him more than he’d willingly admit out loud.

Jak placed his weapon down, returning the safety flag to the barrel, and moved to stand behind Taryn, watching as she finished her clip on the paper target.

She turned to look at him with a smile when she felt his eyes, and she put her weapon down. “So, how’d you do, big guy?” She moved from her booth and peeked into his, noticing how all the shots had made it in the black squares, with a few exceptions here and there.

Taryn hummed, crossing her arms and propping her chin on one hand. “I’d have to say that I won. What do you think?”

Jak looked at her sheet, clearly impressed at how she managed to get all but one stray bullet into the colored zones of the target. He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Looks like one got away from you.”

“Oh, shove off.” She laughed. “Looks to me like _four_ got away from _you_.”

He chuckled too. “Eh, I don’t know. I think you’re seeing things.” He smirked suddenly and backtracked into his own booth, picking up his weapon, removing the flag, and taking aim. He shot four bullets into Taryn’s target before he put the gun down. He turned to see the blue-haired woman staring at him with a playful fire in her eyes.

“Oh, how very mature of you, Jak.” She laughed and moved to pack up her equipment. “Cheating aside, I still won, you know.”

Before Jak could respond, Taryn’s phone, situated in her back pocket, started to buzz.

With furrowed brows, she turned to Jak after checking the caller ID. “I’ve got to take this. Meet you outside?”

He nodded as Taryn quickly grabbed her things and darted out to the lobby. He slowly followed suit, throwing away his used targets and pulling his earmuffs down and goggles up, before he meandered through the doors. He paid the man behind the counter and retrieved his ID, and then he moved outside where Taryn waited for him. He caught the last bit of her conversation.

“—I can be there, yeah.” A pause. “So Tess told you, huh? I’ve been thinking about it, but I suppose now is my chance.” She hummed and shifted her weight, “Yeah. I’ve met him. I’m with him now, actually. I’ll ask if he’d like to be my partner in crime.”

A smile spread on the blue-haired woman’s face as she ended the call and put her phone away, turning to see Jak walking toward her. “Hey, so, Torn has a job for us.”

Jak quirked an eyebrow. “Really now?”

“You in?”

“Course I am. Daxter’s been hounding me to get work, so this’ll get him off my back for at least a week.” He chuckled, walking along the Port with Taryn at his side. “What’s the job?”

“The Baron shut off the water to the Slums, again, so we’ve got to turn it back on. Simple enough.”

The ex-soldier smiled at her as they continued walking, making their way to _The Naughty Ottsel_ to retrieve Jak’s shared cruiser.

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l

“So, Jak,” Taryn started as the heavy city gates came to a smooth close behind them. “I realize now that I don’t actually know much about you. Everyone talks about you, but no one really talks _about_ you. Y’know?”

Jak hummed, taking the lead and walking out onto the sandy shore of the Pumping Station—it was just as murky as he remembered, complete with strange odor. The smell was a mix of wet _something_ and faint sewage. He glanced toward his companion, noticing that she had chosen her Desert Eagle, a fifty caliber bad boy that Jak knew could pack enough of a punch to blow a man in half, as her weapon of choice for the outing. He himself stuck to his nine millimeter. “What would you like to know?”

“You were in the army, right?” The blue-haired woman asked, following behind the blond and observing their surroundings. Palm trees jutted from the sandy Earth to their right, situated comfortably with bushes and a patch of grass for company. The path they needed to take was visible just up ahead, metal structures protruding from the dirt walls of the mountain to form a series of platforms that were climbable. She tilted her head to the side and brought her gaze back onto the man in front of her.

“Yeah, I was.” Blue briefly met green before Jak tore his eyes away. “Everyone uses that as an opening line with me.”

“It’s common ground, I suppose.” She shrugged. “So, you’ve fought Metal Heads before?”

“Too many to count.”

“Hm, good. I’ve been hearing rumors that the Metal Heads have been getting bolder. Apparently, a few KG patrols have spotted them outside the city walls but haven’t said much about it. They’ve been few and far between, but still a concern nonetheless.” Taryn crossed her arms. “Think the rumors are true?”

“You’d know better than I would. For the past three years I haven’t been in Haven.” Jak suddenly came to a stop and looked at her, mouth pulled into a tight frown. He then glanced down at the holster on her hip, and a sudden smirk tugged at his lips. “Hey, at least I can rest easy knowing you’ve got _that_ beast on your hip. Just hope you know how to use it.”

She rested a hand on her side, patting the weapon. “Ah, don’t worry about that, big guy. I’m as qualified as they come.” She continued along the path with a massive grin.

Jak quirked an eyebrow and followed her. “I’ll be the judge of that. This _is_ our first time in the field together.”

“Hm, indeed it is. Think you can handle yourself, soldier?” Taryn gave him a stern stare, but it melted into a laugh.

He rolled his eyes, a smile gracing his features as he parroted her previous words. “I’m as qualified as they come.”

The duo broke into a mild laughing fit until it passed and fell into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes of trekking through the uneven terrain, climbing onto the metal structures and hopping over small gaps until their feet landed back on the natural path, Jak broke the quiet. “So, what’s _your_ story?”

Taryn glanced over her shoulder at the blond, taking a moment to think before answering. “Not much of a story to tell, really. I used to work for a man named Osmo a few years ago. That’s how I met Daxter, as I’m sure you already know. We worked together exterminating bugs and the like all throughout town. When Osmo passed and the Baron shut the business down, Dax and I were out of luck. It was around then that Krew had passed and his bar was for sale, a story I know you already know. I didn’t have anywhere to go work-wise, so that’s when Daxter pointed me in the direction of Keira and her garage at the Stadium. I’ve been working for her since.” Taryn shrugged, climbing up a steep incline of rocks to reach a higher ledge. “Sometimes Torn has work, but other times I find Vin at the power station and keep the poor soul company while fixing his machines.”

Jak watched her, waiting until she was up before attempting the climb himself. “What happened to Osmo? Daxter won’t talk about it.”

Taryn faltered just a step. She turned to look at Jak with a sad smile. “Wrong place, wrong time.” And she was off again, climbing up another steep slope that wrapped around a high ledge to the left. “Once he was out of the picture, the Baron saw it fit to shut us down, even though Osmo’s son, Ximon, was still around and willing to take up the family business. Just goes to show you what a cruel man that Baron is.”

“He’s done more bad than good, that’s for sure.” He mumbled, following a fair distance behind Taryn. “That reminds me. How did Krew pass? Did his weight finally bring him down?”

The blue-haired woman snickered, coming to a stop at the top of the incline to look at the blond. “You could say that, I suppose. I’m sure that was a factor in his eventual death, but he was actually murdered, or so they say. He was a gang lord, as I’m sure you knew. He had many enemies.” She started walking again, picking her way through the uneven ground and foliage and jumping over gaps when one presented itself. “I used to work for him, as did Tess, Jinx, Mog, and Grim. I’m glad to be out of that line of work, though.”

“I can’t imagine working for a grease ball like that.” Jak followed behind her carefully, taking note of how the ground here appeared to be well worn.

“It wasn’t pleasant, but it was work. That’s actually how I stumbled across the _Kridder Ridder_ and met Osmo in the first place. If it weren’t for Krew, I wouldn’t have even known that place existed.”

Jak hummed, and then suddenly he came to a dead stop.

They had just made it to the final bridge, a metal ramp leading to a higher ledge. Said ledge wrapped around the right side of the central mountain, the pathway adorned with more steep cliffs and rocky surfaces, but the blond was focused on something else at the moment.

“Did you say Jinx?”

“Uhm, yes?” Taryn tilted her head, having paused halfway across the bridge when she noticed her partner’s absence at her side.

“Like, hair in a ponytail, always has a cigar, Jinx?”

“Yes, why? Do you know him?”

“Yes, actually. How long has he been back in Haven?” Jak started walking again, catching up with Taryn and continuing on their path. They climbed up the rocky surface, and once at the top, a collection of pipes at the end of the path became the focus. One pipe jutted off to the side and plummeted down toward the water, another shot skyward along the earthen wall, and the third rested along the ground with a valve situated conveniently on the side. 

“A year or so I think? Maybe a year and a half.” Taryn shrugged, and then turned her focus on the plumbing and gestured with one hand. “Well, here we are.”

“I’ve been back a month now and didn’t know he was home. What is he even doing these days?” The blond closed the distance and turned the valve. When he heard the rush of water, he stepped back and shared a glance with his blue-haired companion.

Taryn nodded her approval and crossed her arms. “Well, up until Krew’s passing, he was working for the sleaze ball making new explosives and gathering strange items for him. Now he just sorta helps the Underground when he can. Him and his crew started a little business though, I think. Anyway, this was easy enough. Let’s head back.” She started to move past Jak, but a hand landing on her shoulder halted her movement. She was about to voice her annoyance and ask what had gotten into him, but he jerked his head in the direction they had come with a stern look.

“I heard something. Voices I think.” He wanted to ask more about Jinx, but the strange sounds ceased that train of thought and moved his focus onto more important matters, such as their safety.

“We should be the only ones out here.” Taryn’s brow furrowed.

The ex-soldier turned, narrowing his eyes and scanning the only pathway that led back to the city. From this standpoint, not much could be seen other than the metal bridge and a snippet of the path leading behind another mountain. However, blue and green eyes spotted two Metal Head soldiers just over the bridge on the same path they had traversed not even three minutes ago. Each had a massive glowing ‘gem’ lodged into the forehead of their helmets. Jak could only guess that the so-called ‘gem’ was crafted out of some sort of glass or thin metal, but he’d never had the chance to get up close and personal just to look at their equipment. Normally, if he was close enough, he was cutting or shooting and moving on to the next target.

Their armor was shades of grey and white with some yellows mixed in. The plates almost resembled that of an insect, with the headpiece matching to fit the theme.

It was an ominous sight, to say the least.

With mouth pressed in a tight line, the blond ducked behind a piece of mixed landscape and metal structure that stuck out just enough to conceal two bodies.

The ex-soldier removed his nine millimeter from its side holster, glancing at his companion to see that she was mimicking his movements, her Desert Eagle in her hands and ready to go ripping through the enemy.

When the soldiers neared them, having just passed over the metal bridge and making their way up the mild cliffs, both Jak and Taryn held their breath and waited.

“—dunno, man, this really sucks. Why’d the boss send us out here?” One soldier’s electronically altered voice filled the quiet air, and the Havenites in hiding shared a mutual look of interest.

“’Cause the boss is a dick, that’s why. You know this.” The second soldier answered, although it was hard to tell the two apart—they looked and sounded the exact same.

“Yeah, but I just wanna go home. This place reeks even through the helmet, and all we’re doing is some patrols to gather information. Who needs information from a place like _this_?”

“Every little bit helps. Stop complaining, will you? You’re giving me a damn headache.”

The first soldier released a heavy breath and slumped his shoulders, doing as his companion told as they neared the valve. They stopped nearly on top of Jak and Taryn, but obviously didn’t notice the bodies pressed tight to the landscape to avoid detection just a few feet from them.

“This path is a dead-fucking-end. Great. So was the last one. What’s with this place?” The complainer threw up his hands.

“A dead end isn’t a problem.”

“Yeah, okay, but where’s another path?”

“We’ll find one, but this is part of mapping the place out. Jeeze. I’m starting to see why the boss sent _you_ out here.”

The first soldier stiffened and turned toward his companion. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You complain too damn much, that’s what it’s supposed to mean. You haven’t shut up the whole trip. It’s always something with you.” The second man shook his head, but suddenly he reached for his weapon, an AR15 rifle by the looks of it, that was slung lazily over one shoulder.

“What are you doing?” The first soldier copied his partner’s action out of instinct despite not understanding the reason behind it.

“I thought I saw something, shut up and fo—”

_POP. POP. POP._

The Metal Head soldier crumpled to the ground, his helmet gone and a gaping wound in place of his dome piece.

“Precursors! Fuck, oh fuck! Charlie?” The remaining soldier stole a glance toward his fallen companion, but sobered quickly from the sight he was met with.

 Jak’s eyes widened just a hair as he briefly turned his stare on Taryn. He wanted to say something, to comment on the ruthless, yet awesome, shot and her impeccable aim, but the second soldier was recovering from the shock, fixing his rifle on the couple in hiding.

The blond took charge for this one, aiming his nine mil at the soldier’s knee caps and pulling the trigger without hesitation.

The Metal Head let out an animalistic howl, following his deceased companion to the ground in an agonized heap. The blond could hear curses coming from the soldier, but despite all the talk, the downed man still managed to right himself and refocus his rifle on the Havenites.

However, Jak was already out, coming up on the enemy at a quickened pace and snatching the weapon from the injured man’s shaking hands. He handed the rifle to Taryn when she came to his side to investigate.

Jak roughly grabbed the man by the front of his armor and pulled him to the edge of the cliff beside them, holding him suspended over the murky water below. The movement must have jostled the man’s wounds, because he was hissing in pain again.

“What are you bastards planning? Why do you need to map the area?” Jak growled.

The soldier gave nothing but silence, excluding the pain-filled intakes of breath, even when the blond gave him a good shake.

“Answer me, you fuck! What are you planning?” He tried again, a rage he’d buried deep within himself rising to the surface at such a speed it nearly made him dizzy.

This time the soldier’s reply consisted of mostly static, but Jak could make out one phrase in the man’s garbled and technology altered voice.

“ _Fuck you_.”

With an angry growl, all Jak saw was red. His fingers twitched, the urge to grab the man by the throat instead and strangle the life out of him making itself strongly known. Or perhaps he’d try a different approach? He briefly considered how much weight either his own belt or the enemy’s gun strap could hold, but one thought caused him to pause.

He had an audience, and that audience consisted of someone he was interested in.

To let loose two years of torment in the form of openly killing a man in front of Taryn would surely scare her off, but Jak was having a hard time thinking straight.

He had the enemy in his hands. He had the enemy suspended over a steep, rocky cliff-side. He had _control_ over whether or not the enemy lived or died.

 _He had control_.

For once in the last three years, specifically the two during captivity, Jak had control, and he was loath to give it up without some sort of satisfaction.

All the blond saw was a cold room. All he felt was a hard table and straps keeping his arms and legs in place as needles poked him, his throat raw from screaming, from yelling, from cussing, and his head spinning as a migraine threatened to split his skull. However, one thing remained in focus—the glow of a Metal Head helmet within his line of sight.

Without a second of hesitation, Jak tightened his grip on the soldier with his left hand and coiled his right into a fist before striking fast and quick.

With a sickening _crunch_ , the enemy’s head jolted backwards and his helmet flew off into the murky water below, revealing the face of a normal looking man. Blood began to ooze from his nose, but despite that, he managed to smirk. The soldier made to spit in Jak’s face, but the Havenite saw it coming and released his grip on the enemy’s armor.

The Metal Head plummeted toward the water, a startled scream leaving his lips until the water silenced him.

Jak watched until he saw a head pop up and gasp for breath, and by then he was already aiming his gun at the Metal Head with a snarl. “Fuck _you_!” He hollered, pulling the trigger and ending any possible reply.

Without so much as a glance over his shoulder, the blond turned and resumed the trek back to the city gate with Taryn slowly following behind. He could feel a headache coming on now, the familiar throb forming just behind his eyes as he tried to calm himself down.

He was sure his companion could feel angry waves rolling off his body, but he didn’t dare utter a word as they continued their walk in tense silence. Jak remained acutely aware of their surroundings, feeling paranoid after their run in with the Metal Heads. He felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach, but he swallowed his worry.

He glanced at Taryn when they were halfway back, seeing a question glinting in her eyes when she met his fuming look. She offered him a frown, obviously unsure of what to say or how to say it, for which he couldn’t blame her.

Determining that a lighter mood would help ease himself back into normality as well as halt the rising tension, Jak rubbed his neck awkwardly and spoke. “Guess the rumors were true after all.”

The blue-haired woman bobbed her head, her voice quiet. “It would seem so.” She had kept the enemy rifle, the strap swung over one shoulder to keep the newly acquired weapon in place. She frequently cast Jak a worried look, words lining the edge of her tongue but not having the courage to take the necessary dive.

The ex-soldier let out a heavy breath, running a hand down his face in irritation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

Jak turned his head at that, curiosity taking over his countenance.

She smiled knowingly, reading the question that decorated his expression as if he had spoken it.

_You understand?_

“I wasn’t exactly in the army, not like you were, but I have been there under different circumstances. I know what it’s like, and for years I saw that same haunted look on my own face.”

Jak didn’t know what to say, his mind still reeling from the fact that someone understood what he was going through, or at least had a similar experience.

Taryn reached out and patted him gently on the arm, catching him off guard and thoroughly startling him. She quickly retracted her hand, an apology clouding her gaze.

Jak shook his head. “No, it’s—it’s okay. _I’m_ sorry.” He released a shaky breath and continued onward, the blue-haired beauty following behind him at a slower pace.

The duo remained quiet as they maneuvered through the terrain and back to the city gate, and in ten or so minutes, they were trudging through the dull sand of the shoreline.

As they waited for the heavy doors to slide open and grant them reentry to Haven, Jak cocked his head to the side as he caught Taryn’s stare. “That gun of yours, did you have it modified? That thing packs a mean punch.”

Taryn glanced toward him with a proud smile. “I had Tess modify it with some extra goodies. Including the armor piercing bullets I had custom made for ripping through _anything_. I don’t trust the outside anymore, not after the rumors, and especially not after today. I refuse to use anything less than the best, especially when my life, and other lives, are on the line.”

“Why does Tess work as a bartender when she could be making bucks working on gun mods?” Jak laughed quietly, his eyes trailing from the beast in her hands and up to meet her eyes again. He was thankful for the idle chatter. Although the walk to the city gate was mostly silent and his anxiety was still acting up, he was grateful he wasn’t alone at that moment. He had a strong urge to get to know Taryn even better after today. If she truly understood what he was going through, what he _felt_ , then he needed to befriend her. As much as he loved Daxter and Tess, they didn’t have any idea what it was like out on the frontlines.

Taryn knew, or at least had some sort of idea due to an experience, and that was good enough for him.

The blue-haired woman chuckled, jostling the blond from his circling thoughts. “As much as she likes guns, she likes working with Daxter more. The bar makes him happy; therefore, she’s happy.”

“When I left three years ago, Daxter hadn’t worked up the courage to ask her out yet. I kept telling him to, and it was obvious she liked him, but he just kept flirting like usual. It drove me nuts,” Jak reminisced, a genuine smile coming to his face. “I remember when I received the letter that said he’d finally done it and she said yes. It was a good day.”

“Hm, sounds sweet.”

The gate clinked open before Jak could say anything else, and the duo was entering the small area and waiting for the second gate to open. He realized then that he was still holding his gun with a death grip, so he holstered it and stared at Taryn with a narrowed gaze. “How’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Practice.” The corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk.

Jak wanted to pry, he wanted to say that no one was _that_ good just because they _wanted_ to be, or at least, in his experience, people were only that good because they _had_ to be. However, he opted for the silent route like so often as the second gate slid open and revealed the Water Slums. With it came an odor resembling that of the Pumping Station, but this smell was mixed with smog and left an industrial sort of taste in one’s mouth.

He wondered if that so-called ‘practice’ had something to do with her understanding his state of anxiety and rage back when they were dealing with the Metal Head.

Nevertheless, the duo quietly returned to the garish cruiser and made their way through the afternoon traffic to the Underground hideout to report their disconcerting news.


	4. Matter of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, I took a bit of a hiatus due to writer's block and overall lack of motivation for this story, but I am back now! I have been working on the plot of this thing so I actually like it, so a lot of new juicy stuff is gonna be coming in the future! 
> 
> This chapter I actually had to split, so the second part (chapter 5 now), will be coming soon! (Like, today or tomorrow probably)
> 
> The previous chapters have also been re-edited. Solziv, my amazing beta-reader, looked through them and pointed out a few things, and while I was editing those I found a few plot related things myself that were wrong now that I have an idea as to where this story is going. So everything is shiny and clean! And I'm going to slowly get working on future chapters at a nicer pace to not overload myself. So, it may be awhile before I update again, the second part of this chapter the exception because that's done, but I wanted to write out more chapters before posting to ensure the plot stays on track.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And enjoy!

“The Metal Heads are now outside the city walls.”

“They’ve always been outside the city walls.”

“ _Hah hah_ ,” Jak crossed his arms and gave the tattooed man a level stare. “I’m being serious. Taryn and I just cut down two of them while turning the water back on.”

Torn stared at the duo for a long moment, eyes narrowed and mouth slowly dipping into a frown. “You aren’t kidding. Shit.” The man reached into a desk in the far corner of the room, removing two neatly wadded piles of bills each secured with a rubber band. He handed one to Jak and the other to Taryn before pacing in front of the central table in thought.

“They’ve been getting bolder every day. I’ve heard rumors about people who leave the city walls being attacked. Most don’t make it back alive.” Taryn pulled up a chair, flipping it around so she could sit on it backwards as she pocketed her payment. She cast Jak a frown as she leaned her elbows on the back of the chair.

The blond nodded at her before giving the tattooed man his undivided attention. “What do we do?”

Torn’s expression fell into muted concern, and after a moment of contemplation, he shook his head. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll have to speak with some other members of The Underground and some of my KG contacts. Let them know what’s happening. The Shadow will want to know about this right away—” The tattooed man cut himself off as he continued to pace around the circular table, mumbling to himself. One arm rested behind his back while the other fell near his chin, worn frown lines creasing his face.

Jak shared another glance with Taryn, a question dancing underneath the surface of his gaze, but the latter was the first to make a move.

“We’ll leave you to it, then. Thanks for the payment, and give us a call if anything comes up, okay?” The blue-haired beauty returned her chair to its previous position.

The brunet barely nodded as the duo clambered back up the stairs and exited through the doorway.

Jak let out a shaky laugh as the door slid closed behind them. “I suppose this is worse than we thought, huh?”

Taryn countered his laugh with a troubled smile. “I suppose it is. What a way to start off our careers as Underground agents, eh?”

“No kidding.” Jak glanced at the blue-haired beauty, deciding a change of subject was in order. With business concluded for the day, some peace and quiet was required, despite how heavy the news hung on their shoulders. “Need a lift home?”

Taryn nodded, “If you don’t mind. Actually, _The Naughty Ottsel_ would do just as well. I need a drink.”

“Might need more than one.” The blond quirked his lips into a grin as they continued to his vehicle. He took up his position as driver, and when Taryn joined in the passenger seat, he zoomed off.

His mind was racing, matching his current driving state as he bobbed and weaved through traffic in a manner that was haphazard for most but so natural for Jak. He always drove like this—reckless and as if he’d never driven before, which wasn’t such a far-off statement. Having joined the army when he was only eighteen years old, the blond didn’t have much of a chance to use his license. Besides, learning how to maneuver a large vehicle in the desert was different than using a standard street cruiser. One was bulky with massive tires and traveled through shifting sands, while the other hovered and soared through the streets with a grace the sand buggies couldn’t even fathom.

His blue-haired companion laughed suddenly, drawing the ex-soldier from his thoughts. “You’re a madman behind the wheel, Jak. Those stories I’ve heard about you _are_ true. I can fully attest to that after spending a day with you and your driving skills.”

Jak laughed, “The only one who _doesn’t_ complain about my driving is Daxter. I think he likes the thrill of near misses, something he likes to emulate when driving himself but doesn’t quite have the skill for it.”

“I’ll admit it’s exhilarating, but at the same time it’s terrifying. I’m just thankful I don’t get scared easily, or car sick for that matter.” She pursed her lips, “Remind me to never get in a vehicle where Daxter is the driver. I trust _you_ more than I trust _him_ , and I’ve known him longer.” Taryn folded her arms over her chest and glanced at the blond with a tender smile. “I’m not complaining about your driving though. Simply making an observation. From what I’ve learned about you, and from what I’ve seen, if you drove like an old man I’d be concerned.”

Jak snorted, but quickly composed himself when he realized how undignified that noise was. Taryn laughed though, and soon the two of them were cracking up.

When they settled, Taryn leaned her elbow on the armrest and looked off to the side, “I rather like your company, Jak. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but you’re not half bad.”

The blond grunted. “Well thanks for the compliment.”

“Oh, anytime,” She smirked, sending Jak a wink. “So, have you ever thought about becoming a racer at the Stadium?”

The ex-soldier tilted his head. “Uh, no, actually.”

“Perhaps you should. With skills like yours, you might have a chance against some of the longtime racers. If anything, the part-time work would be good, y’know? Keep you busy and keep you paid. Even more of a payout for _winning_ , which I think you’d easily accomplish judging by what I’ve seen today. Although, the current champion of the NYFE races is a son of a bitch who doesn’t take losing well.”

“Sounds like someone who needs to be knocked down a peg, then.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Taryn rolled her eyes, tapping her fingers on her thigh as she stared out the window. She whirled suddenly, startling Jak, who tightened his grip on the steering wheel at her outburst. “Oh! Hey, don’t think I forgot about that lunch you owe me.”

Jak’s shoulders slumped as he laughed, grip falling slack on the wheel as he dipped his head downward. “Oops. _I_ forgot about that.”

“Of course you did, big guy.” Taryn rolled her eyes.

Jak cast her a glance, swallowing a sudden lump and causing him to clear his throat. “How about we change lunch to dinner?”

Taryn quickly turned her head and stared at him, confusion and interest clouding her eyes. “Dinner, hm?” She looked away, watching the zoomer in front of them as they continued driving along. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jak looked taken aback.

The blue-haired woman chuckled. “What, did you think I’d say no?”

“Maybe.”

Her laughter increased, but it was heartfelt and not mocking. “When?”

“Tonight? At seven?”

“Seven sounds good to me, and with plenty of time to get ready after mucking through the Pumping Station.” She smiled at him, and if Jak squinted, he could almost make out a light flush to her cheeks. He had a feeling his own were lightly colored too, and he was grateful to be driving. Having his hands on the steering wheel kept them from fidgeting.

“All right, then. It’s settled. I’ll pick you up? Or do you just want to come to the bar instead?”

“I can meet you at the bar. Easier that way, I think.”

“Do you live close to the Port?” Jak stole a glance at his companion.

“Sort of? I have a small studio apartment over in the Industrial Zone kind of close to the Power Station. So, I’m close enough to walk where I need to.” Taryn shrugged.

“No vehicle, I assume?”

She shook her head, “I can’t afford one, although I did manage to pick up a cheap zoomer that was in disrepair. I asked Keira if I could store it at her garage and work on it during my down time, so I _am_ working on fixing myself a ride, it’s just taking longer than I anticipated.”

“Well, if you ever need a ride I don’t mind helping you out. I, uh, also don’t know much about fixing vehicles, Keira really is the go-to for that, but I know the Stadium is a long _drive_ from here, so I can’t imagine how long it must take to walk. If you ever need a ride to and from, I’d be happy to lend you one.” He cast a shadow of a grin toward her, which earned him one in reply.

“Thank you, Jak. I might have to take you up on that offer.”

The ex-soldier dipped his head, but overall the vehicle took on a comfortable silence except for the wind whipping past them. Eventually they rounded the corner and entered the Port, where Jak maneuvered the vehicle toward _The Naughty Ottsel_ and into a space beside the bar. He parked and hopped out, waiting for Taryn to do the same before they meandered to the front door, the massive metal pieces splitting apart to allow them entry.

Tess and Daxter were both behind the counter, and when the blond took a seat on a stool, with Taryn taking the seat next to him, they gave matching smiles.

“Welcome back, Cowboy,” Daxter winked. “You sure were gone awhile. Did Torn get ya a job? And hey there, Bloo. Yer lookin’ good as always.”

Taryn rolled her eyes, “Ever the flirtatious one, even with your girlfriend standing beside you.”

“Oh, you know I don’t mind it. It’s harmless. Besides, it’s just how my Daxxie is.” Tess pulled the redhead into her arms, giving him a tight squeeze and earning what Jak and Taryn could have sworn was a purr.

Jak rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the counter, shoulders slumping, and sharing a mutual look of mock distaste with Taryn, before he looked at his best friend. “The Baron turned the water off in the Slums. Taryn and I turned it back on and fought a few Metal Heads straggling outside the walls.”

Tess’ arms dropped from Daxter as she gaped at the blond. “Did you say Metal Heads? Out at the Pumping Station?”

Jak turned his tired eyes toward the busty barmaid, nodding solemnly.

She braced her hands on the counter with a frown, looking at Daxter who had quickly dropped his playful demeanor to take up a more serious appearance. Tess quickly looked between Jak and the blue-haired woman. “Did you tell Torn?”

“Don’t worry, it’s covered. We told Torn the moment we were back. He was going on about the Shadow needing to know, whoever _that_ is, and some KG people he knew.” The blond cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “So who is this Shadow character? I’ve heard them mentioned several times now.”

Daxter shrugged, “No one really knows who the Shadow is except the higher ups. I suppose one day the mystery might be revealed to us grunts, but eh, who cares? I sure don’t. The less we know about that sorta thing the better, in my opinion.”

Tess sighed a heavy breath, “What a great first mission though.”

“No kidding,” Jak rolled his eyes, “Not what I was expecting, but at least two people with experience were out there and not some rookie.”

A sudden touch to his shoulder caused him to jolt and pull an elbow back in defense. However, when he saw it was Taryn who had reached out, a remorseful yet knowing look in her eye, he relaxed and lowered his arm with a mute apology.

“You okay, Bud?” Daxter’s voice was uncharacteristically low.

The blond glanced up, and then stretched his muscles as he tried to brush off what had just occurred. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just think I need a nap. It’s been a long day.”

Taryn slipped off the stool, pulling Jak from his reverie, and cast him a ghost of a smile. “Alright then, big guy. Get some rest and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me picking you up? It’s better than walking.”

Taryn paused, tilting her head to the side, and then grabbed a napkin off the countertop. “Tess, you got a pen?”

The bubbly blonde moved toward the register and retrieved a purple pen. She handed it to Taryn, who scribbled down quick directions, in the form of a crude map, on how to get to her little “hole-in-the-wall” of a place. She then held the napkin out for the ex-soldier to take, a shy grin lighting up her face. “Since you insist.”

Jak took the napkin with a brow raised, but bobbed his head. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Taryn grinned, and then waved at the couple behind the counter. “Bye Tess, bye Dax.” She turned and exited the establishment, leaving Jak to the curious stares from his best friend and the blonde barmaid.

“See you tonight?” Daxter’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, I see, so while you were out workin’, showin’ off yer skills as a well-tuned hero, you managed to get yerself a lady, eh? Nice, brother, you’ve got yerself a good catch.” He winked at Jak, which earned him an eye roll.

“I’m happy for you, Jak. Taryn is a good woman, and I think you two have more in common than y’all might think, too.” Tess grinned.

Jak shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. He already _knew_ he had a lot in common with Taryn from the previous events that had transpired, but the reassurance was nice.

Attempting to change the subject, Jak raised an eyebrow at the couple, “How was work?”

Daxter took the bait and grinned, resting a hand on his hip, “Oh, y’know, the usual. Had to threaten some asshole who tried to hit up on my girl, though.” He winked at Tess, who fluttered her eyelashes and couldn’t hide her blushing cheeks.

“Gotta protect what’s mine, y’know? But this guy, big dude, mind you.” Daxter made hand motions to show _how_ big this man was before continuing, “Comes _swaggering_ into _my_ bar like _he_ owned the joint. Already I don’t like him, ya see? So he comes up to the counter here, where my ladylove is busy making drinks like a master, and he says, ‘Hey, babe, what’s a fine thing like you doing in a scummy place like this?’”

The redhead scoffed, “Can you believe the _nerve_ of this prickhole? Anyway, so I walk up to him and make myself known, and then I say, ‘Hey, Asshole, why don’t ya back up off my lady? And while you’re at it, why don’t you keep backing up out of _my_ bar. Oh, and don’t let the door hit ya where the great Precursors split ya.’

  “This dude then has the balls to straighten out his bent back and try to look intimidating. _Intimidating_. You can’t _intimidate_ all of _this_ ,” Daxter gestured to himself with a beaming grin, finishing the gesture with a flex of his lackluster arm muscles. “So whaddya think I did? Hm? If you were thinkin’ clock him in his smug, ugly mug, then brotha you’re right on the mark. He went to open his fat mouth and _WHAM_! I made ‘im see stars, alright.”

“Oh, Daxxie, you were such a _hero_ today!” Tess wrapped her arms around the redhead and squeezed, holding her boyfriend within close vicinity of her bosom, of which caused a dopey grin to spread on Daxter’s face.

“Anythin’ fer you, Babycheeks.”

The barmaid hummed and squeezed a little tighter, mumbling something that Jak was positive he was happy he couldn’t hear judging by the deep blush that overtook Daxter’s face.

Jak rolled his eyes but managed to smile as he slid off the stool he was seated on, earning the attention of his friends and momentarily breaking apart the cuddle-fest that was happening. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you had an exciting day. Compared to yours, my day was _so boring_ it wore me out.” The ex-soldier smirked, casting a mock salute toward the couple as his sarcasm hit the mark.

The last thing he saw as he yanked open the door to the house was his best friend wrapping an arm around the blonde bombshell and drawing her close as they talked in low tones. The sight brought a smile to his face as he left them to their work and maneuvered to his bedroom on the second floor.

At least love still existed in this cruel world, and he had something, or rather someone, to look forward to seeing later that night.


	5. A New Level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this updated! I ended up doing a few last minute changes/fixes to it, but here it is! The date between Jak and Taryn.  
> As usual, this was beta-read by the lovely Solziv, who also writes and has a story about this pairing if you're interested in more content about these two!  
> Future updates will be slow because I'm going to focus on hashing out the plot and making sure everything flows okay before I start worrying about posting chapters, but, good news, right now this story is looking at being anywhere between 30 and 35 chapters! And a prequel will probably happen, too, to explain Jak's time during the army and his captivity, so lot's of content to be expected in the future!  
> (I also fixed the formatting of previous chapters and this one, so no more weird spacing!)  
> Enjoy! And thanks for reading :)

At six-thirty, Jak found himself sitting at the speckled bar counter, tapping his fingers on the worn surface and periodically tracing a deep scar etched into the skin of his wrist—an unfriendly reminder of a painful past. Just the thought caused his body to shake, but now wasn’t the time for this. The ex-soldier took a long breath and fought back the memories, attempting to wrangle his emotions and stay afloat, at least for the evening.

He wouldn’t typically consider himself one to be easily nervous, either, let alone nervous about taking someone he spent the entire day with out to dinner, but he had asked her out and meant it as a date, albeit an _unspoken_ date. He _hoped_ it was a date, and that thought alone made him feel anxious. He’d only gone out with one other person before, and that other person was someone he grew up with and, therefore, had known his entire life.

He had only known Taryn for approximately a month.

She was still a stranger, but she was an intriguing stranger.

And beautiful, and talented with a gun, and the list could go on as to why Jak was interested in her.

As much as he enjoyed the company of Keira, he just didn’t see too many things at her level, whereas his blue-haired companion understood so much more than he thought she would _and_ was interested in similar hobbies. Keira was more about mechanics and gadgets, where Jak preferred his guns and to mostly keep to himself. Besides, Hagai could never understand what he had gone through, and, frankly, Jak didn’t _want_ to share that with her.

The idea of getting close to someone was a terrifying thought though, and it was something that Jak detested despite knowing that he couldn’t remain a shut in forever, especially not with Daxter as his brother. It wasn’t good for his health, for one, but he knew over time it would eat at him. At least this way he had a distraction, an escape, until he was home in his bedroom facing his demons for yet another lonely night. He wondered if having a warm body sleeping beside him would help ease his thoughts, but he wasn’t so sure about that, either.

Sucking in another breath and filling his lungs with the lingering smoke that regularly permeated the bar, the blond straightened and forced his mind to clear. Regardless of nerves or intentions, Jak was going to enjoy himself tonight and Precursors be damned if he was about to let his own broken mind ruin that for him.

Dressed in a nicer-than-usual pair of blue jeans, work boots that had been cleaned, and an open button-up black shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, with a white T-shirt underneath, Jak leaned on the counter and turned his gaze to the working blonde, deciding that it was time to converse.

Tess smiled, feeling his gaze on her and coming over to stand in front of him after handing a mug of beer to a patron. “Nervous, Hun?”

“A little. Don’t usually leave the house much lately, y’know? Not sure to how to behave out in public when the only reference I have is _Daxter_.” Jak snickered.

She laughed loudly, resting a hand on her bosom. “ _No one_ should follow his example. I love him, I really do, but you can’t take that man anywhere, I swear. You’ll do fine. You look nice, by the way.” She winked.

“That’s a valid point.” The ex-soldier laughed, running a hand through his short hair and looking downward embarrassedly. “Thanks.”

“Tell me, though, did you actually _ask_ her out, or did something else happen?” Tess tilted her head.

Jak’s cheeks turned a faint pink as he shifted on the stool. “You’re too perceptive. But, uh, this morning I went to the Gun Range, right? She was there, and she proposed a little wager. The loser had to the buy lunch, but Torn called and we ended up working the job.” Jak crossed his arms over his chest, giving Tess a more level stare. “I suggested dinner instead.”

“Oh.” Tess bobbed her head slowly. “So, she won the bet?”

Jak gave her a mute stare, but eventually he caved and lifted a shoulder in nonchalance. “Yeah, she won.”

The blonde chuckled, stifling the noise with a hand. “I suspected as much. She’s a _killer_ shot.”

Jak raised an eyebrow.

“What?” The barmaid matched his raised eyebrow, a sly smirk twisting her smile.

He shook his head, glancing at the clock hanging just above the door to the housing part of the building and hopped to his feet with a quickness that made his head spin.

_6:45._

“Shit. I gotta go! Bye, Tess!” He dug around his pockets for the cruiser keys and bolted out the front door, ignoring the vertigo and nearly mowing down a small group of people who were attempting to enter the bar. He disregarded their angry protests and made it to his vehicle, starting it up and backing out onto the road.

It was then he nearly stomped on his brakes from a sudden realization.

He’d forgotten the napkin with the directions to her place on his nightstand.

“ _Fuck_ ,” He growled, but one glance at the clock told him that he didn’t have any time to spare to turn around and get it.

He supposed he’d take his chances. Besides, he got a good look at it when he first received it, and he knew her place was somewhat close to the Power Station, so he’d have to make do.

What a way to start the evening.

Thankfully, traffic wasn’t terrible, so Jak was able to move through the streets with ease until he made it into the Industrial Zone. He slowed his speed and kept his eyes peeled for the next street he needed to turn down. According to his ‘memorized’ map, he needed to take the next left and then her place would be halfway down. He knew the apartment number was 314; he just had to find it.

He followed the building numbers, starting in the one hundreds and counting up, until he hit the three hundreds and stopped when he spotted the one he was looking for. He parked the cruiser in front and hopped out, tilting his head. He didn’t even know these places existed over here, but they made sense for the workers in the area.

The blond walked up the three steps that made the ‘porch’ and rang the doorbell, stepping back and leaning against the half-railing to the side. He crossed his arms and scouted out the area, eyes narrowed in contemplation. A few people walked along the streets, not paying Jak any mind as they hurried along to their destinations.

It was when the door opened that the blond was pulled from his observations and back into the present. He smiled at the sight he met with.

Taryn was dressed in tight-fitting, charcoal shorts that didn’t reach her knees, black ankle boots with a mild heel, a red tank top that covered her midriff, and a black cropped leather jacket. Her usual black choker was around her neck, and her hair was in a half-up-half-down sort of style that suited her. A coral pink painted her lips, along with a dusting of blush to her cheeks and an outline of brown to her eyes to make the color pop.

If Daxter were here, Jak was sure the redhead would whistle and say something provocative, and for once, the ex-soldier was glad his best friend was nowhere in sight.

The blue-haired beauty caught Jak’s eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” The blond grinned at her, and then he scratched the back of his neck and shifted his gaze away. “You, uh, look nice.”

Taryn awkwardly laughed and shuffled her feet. “Thanks. You too.”

“Are you ready? Or do you need a bit longer? I can wait out here,” Jak pushed off from the railing, hooking a thumb toward his overly bright cruiser. He honestly regretted allowing Daxter to get it painted such a gaudy orange. It stood out too much.

“No, I’m ready to go. Just let me grab my keys.” She left the door open as she hurried back inside. When she showed up not even three seconds later, she had a small black purse slung over her shoulder and keys in hand. She quickly locked the door and joined Jak at the bottom of the steps with a smile. “So, where are we going?”

The ex-soldier turned and led the way to the vehicle, opening the door for Taryn when they were close enough. She dipped her head in thanks as he closed the door and climbed in on his own side. Once the vehicle was started and they were on their path, he shot her a grin. “There’s a diner close to the Stadium. I used to go there all the time before the army, and the food is pretty good from what I remember.”

“Are you talking about the _Flut Flut Café_?”

The blond nodded.

“I haven’t been inside, but I’ve passed by it plenty of times.”

Jak chuckled. “I’m surprised you haven’t eaten there before.”

The blue-haired woman shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it never caught my attention? I don’t eat out often, honestly. Costs a lot.”

“I can understand that.”

The remainder of the ride was in relaxed silence. When they finally arrived at the place, a colorful café with blues and golds decorating the outside with fake palm trees resting on either side of the doorway, Jak parked and slipped out to open the door for Taryn before she even had the chance to unbuckle her seatbelt.

Offering a smile in thanks, the blue-haired beauty waited for him before they walked to the entrance together. She paused by the door, peering up at the sign.

In bold blue letters framed in gold, the words “ _Flut Flut Café”_ stood out amongst the white background. A cartoon head of the café’s namesake, a flut flut, joined the lettering, along with rope lights that lined the perimeter of the sign and the doorframe.

“I revoke my statement of this place never catching my attention. It’s a _little_ hard to miss.” Taryn commented with a tilt of the head, grinning at her companion who returned the gesture with a chuckle and moved to open the door for her.

She headed inside, where a peppy waitress garbed in a knee-length dress of similar shade to the sign outside—a peacock blue—greeted her.

“Hi! Welcome to the _Flut Flut Café!_ ” The girl caught sight of Jak and her smile grew. “A seat for two?”

Taryn nodded. “Please.”

“Booth or table?” The waitress grabbed two menus and two rolls of silverware that were wrapped up in a napkin, her pale blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders until she flicked some behind her ear and out of the way.

“Table.” Jak spoke this time, moving to stand just to the side of Taryn.

The girl beamed at them and flitted away, the couple following her as she led them to a table not far from the door. Jak counted four booths, all of which were situated on the right side with the windows, before they stopped at a four-seater table. The ex-soldier only spotted about four other groups of people in the establishment, which was surprising for a Tuesday at seven. He would have expected a few more parties.

The waitress, whose nametag read Luna, placed down a menu on either side of the table, along with the silverware, and took a step back. “Can I get you folks anything to drink?”

“Coffee, please, black.” Taryn glanced at Luna with a smile, taking the seat Jak pulled out for her. She glanced down to thumb through the menu and look for something that sounded appetizing.

“I’ll take a coffee, too. French vanilla creamer and sugar on the side, please.” Jak dipped his head at the blonde, watching as she turned and disappeared. He shifted his stare to his blue-haired date, a slight smile forming as he took the seat opposite Taryn, the one that faced the entrance. “After the day we’ve had, this is nice.”

Taryn looked up, meeting the blond’s gaze and matching his smile. “Indeed it is.” She then smirked. “So, you’re a _vanilla_ kind of man, eh?”

Jak raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I like the flavor. It’s better than hazelnut or whatever.”

The coy look on her face intensified. “I can respect that. Perhaps someday you’ll feel more adventurous and try something _less vanilla_ , eh?”

“But, I like vanilla.” Jak tilted his head. “Not like I wanna try chocolate or something. That doesn’t sound good in coffee, in my opinion.”

Taryn bit back the laugh that threatened to spill from her painted lips, knowing that the poor soul seated across from her had no clue what she had meant by _vanilla_. “Hm, chocolate isn’t too bad, but I feel ya. When you’re used to only vanilla, breaking the cycle can be a daunting task.”

“I have a feeling we aren’t talking about coffee anymore, but I’m almost afraid to know what it is you _really_ mean.” Jak chuckled, giving his head a shake.

“A wise man.” She gave her eyebrows a wiggle before clearing her throat and shifting the conversation elsewhere. “It’s been sometime since I’ve been out like this. I’ve been so focused on work and trying to stay afloat I haven’t really had the time to do much else. And now with the Underground business, I can imagine free time being a thing of the past.”

“Me too, with slightly different circumstance _s_.” He shrugged. “At least the Underground is a noble cause.”

“Well, with the army taking up your time it’s understandable.” The woman smiled, but her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “That reminds me. How do you know Jinx?”

Jak brightened at that, nearly forgetting about the earlier mention of his old friend, but he fidgeted a little, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “We met in the army. He was already there when I arrived. But, after Basic when I was thrown in the fray with all the other newbies, we met. He was an explosives expert, Combat Engineer I think was his official title, but he knew anything about everything when it came to his work. Sometimes he’d sub as a driver if we needed one, too.”

“Such a small world, huh?” Taryn chuckled. “I’ve known Jinx, and even Tess, since my teenage years. I’m surprised you and I haven’t met sooner than this.”

“Yeah, that is surprising. More so because you even know _Daxter_ , and yet we’ve never heard of each other.”

“Maybe he just wanted all the ladies for himself?” Taryn offered, but the snorting laughter that erupted before she even finished the statement gave her away. When she settled, she rested an elbow on the table and her chin on her palm. “I think it’s one of those coincidental fate things. We just weren’t supposed to meet until now, or something.”

Jak rolled his eyes, but he was laughing along with her. “I dunno, I have little faith in that fate crap, but, perhaps you’re right.” He cleared his throat, mimicking a deep, guttural voice. “ _The stars have aligned and the fate of two souls have intertwined at last_.”

The blue-haired beauty let loose another snort as she cracked up, holding her sides as she shook her head. “Precursors, Jak, what sorta voice was _that_?”

“The voice of a god.”

“A god with a cold, perhaps.”

The blond scoffed, feigning offense. “How dare you mock how a _god_ speaks.”

“How dare _you_ mimic a god so poorly he sounds like he has bronchitis.”

“Fuck you.” Jak chortled.

Taryn sniggered, the smirk that appeared damn near splitting her face from the effort it took to keep herself in check. Even Jak suddenly grew quiet, the look on his face copying that of a deer in headlights as he realized _what_ he said and _how_ Taryn took those words. Daxter was a terrible influence all around, it seemed.

The blue-haired woman batted her eyelashes. “So, you didn’t know Jinx was back in town, then?”

Jak narrowed his eyes, but accepted the shift of conversation. He shook his head, gaze darting down to the table as he picked at the paper holding his silverware together in a napkin. “Once I, uhm, left due to _complications_ , I didn’t go back to my old unit, so I never kept in touch with anyone. I should’ve at least stayed in contact with _him_. He was one of the few good ones, even if he was a bit obnoxious at times.”

Taryn hummed, about to open her mouth and add something, when Luna popped up holding a tray of drinks in one hand. She placed down Taryn’s mug first, the liquid inside rivaling that of the black vinyl that covered the booths and chair cushions. Next was Jak’s mug, the color the same as Taryn’s, followed by a small glass of creamer and a stack of sugar cubes, which the blond eyed curiously.  

“Did y’all figure out what you wanted to eat tonight?” Luna tucked the now empty tray under one arm and pulled out a pen and notepad from a pocket in her apron.

The blue-haired beauty glanced down at the menu then quickly back up at the waitress, not missing a beat. “BLT with fries, and could you make the bacon crispy, please?” She folded her menu back up and slid it to the end of the table.

Luna nodded, “Of course. And for you, sir?” She turned to the blond and shifted her weight to one foot, her smile reaching her eyes.

“Well, first, can I can another plate of sugar cubes?”

“’Course, Hun.”

Jak smiled, then flipped through the menu quickly before deciding. “I’ll take the, uh, chicken fried steak.”

The waitress clicked her tongue. “And how would you like that cooked?”

“Medium well.”

Luna scribbled on her notepad, and when she was done, she put the booklet away and beamed at them. “Okie doke. I’ll get that out as soon as possible for y’all, okay?” And with a flourish, the waitress was bouncing off with their order, leaving the couple to themselves.

Jak rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling unsure. He wasn’t used to talking this much, even though it felt so natural with his current company. In the army, you simply took orders, and he hadn’t made too many friends so talking was a rare occurrence. That was why he was friends with Daxter. His redheaded best friend did enough talking for a bus full of people.

Thankfully, Taryn didn’t seem to have the same social challenge as he did. “So, you got any family?”

Jak shook his head, “Aside from Daxter? No. I guess you could count Keira and her father, and Tess too, but Daxter is my brother.”

Taryn tilted her head, eyes squinting. “Not your blood brother though, right? You two look nothing alike, and seem pretty stark different when it comes to personalities.”

Jak laughed. “Not blood, no, but does that really matter?”

“When it comes down to it? Not at all.” A small smile spread on the woman’s lips as she took her warm mug of coffee into her hands.

The waitress skittered by and deposited another plate of sugar cubes with a bat of her eyelashes before disappearing again. Jak proceeded to drown his beverage with the sugary bits, giving the lightened liquid a good stir before taste-testing. He wanted to redirect Taryn’s question back at her, but she was already firing off a different one.

 “So, how’d you meet Daxter?”

Jak glanced up from his drink, blinking. “We met when we were kids. He was the only one who would talk to me and didn’t mind that I was a mute.” Jak sighed thoughtfully, giving the contents of his mug another good stir before he took a long drink.

Taryn arched an eyebrow at the man. “How are you drinking that?”

“What do you mean?” Jak stared at her with doe-eyes.

“Isn’t that hot?”

The blond blinked and stared down at the liquid in the mug as if it would speak for him, but after a long moment he chuckled and shook his head. “I have a high tolerance for heat.”

“Apparently so.” Taryn glanced down at her own beverage accusingly.

“Keira used to baffle at that, too. Something hot just came out of the oven and I’m on it without so much as blowing on it to cool it.” Jak reminisced, eyes darting up briefly to read Taryn’s expression when he realized what he had said and how it could be taken.

 The blue-haired beauty simply raised an eyebrow, but she was grinning. “Anyone would probably comment on that.”

“Probably, yeah.” The ex-soldier shrugged, taking another gulp of his coffee.

“So, you mentioned being mute?” Taryn cocked her head to the side, fingers tracing shapes along the side of her warm mug.

Jak slowly put his own cup down, staring at his company with one brow hiked upwards. “I didn’t start speaking until I was fifteen. I can’t remember what I said exactly, but I remember Daxter cracking up.”

The blue-haired woman hummed amusedly, but Luna chose then to show up, cutting off that topic as she carefully slid plates in front of them and asked if they needed anything else. When both answered no, she bounded off to help another table.

Taryn eyed her sandwich with a hungry stare. “Looks good.”

“Yeah, it does. Smells good, too.” He licked his lips, realizing just how famished he was now that food sat before him. When did he last eat? Oh, yeah, a breakfast bar in the cruiser on his way to see Torn earlier that day.

“So,” Taryn managed to get out after a quick taste of her sandwich, “I was wondering something. I know you used weapons while in service, but did you use guns before you joined?”

Jak cut up his chicken fried steak with a fork as he answered. “Yeah. I was interested in them before I joined. Back in my younger days, I used to venture outside the walls and shoot with Daxter with a gun we ‘borrowed.’” He laughed, taking a quick bite of his meal and savoring the strong flavor. “And by that I mean we took one of the ones Samos had stashed for protection and used it without his knowledge. We were terrible teenagers, but we were careful about shooting out in the wild. To this day I don’t think the old man knows that we knew his safe combination.”

Taryn raised an eyebrow. “You two sound very much like myself when I was a teenager. _Rebellious_ , and fitting for such a nickname as the _Demolition Duo._ Speaking of which, when _did_ that name come into existence?”

“Even _you_ know about the Demolition Duo? Daxter’s been busy spinning his tales, it seems. It started when we were younger. You never got one without the other, and wherever we went, we caused trouble.” Jak shook his head. “In Daxter’s stories, does he tell you how _he_ accomplished everything? And _I_ was just the sidekick?”

Taryn gave a knowing groan. “I always _knew_ he was embellishing.”

“That’s just his style.”

“I should have expected as much from a man who gave _himself_ the nickname _Orange Lightning_.” Taryn rolled her eyes.

 “He was calling himself Orange Lightning when we were kids, and Precursors, I had hoped that would end when he grew up. Although, I guess Daxter won’t ever grow up, huh?”

She snorted. “’Daxter’ and ‘grow up’ doesn’t even fit in the same sentence.”

“A valid point.” The blond chuckled. “What about you though? You seem to know your way around a gun better than I do.” The blond smothered a piece of his steak in the mashed potatoes that occupied one side of his plate.

Taryn hummed thoughtfully. “My adoration for weaponry also started with my youth, and I blame, but also thank, Tess for getting me into it. She knew the owner of the gun range, so we’d be able to go in and borrow their guns to shoot despite our age. He also taught us _how_ to shoot, so it was a useful experience.”

“At least you were properly taught. Dax and I winged it. I’m surprised we didn’t get hurt, or that Dax didn’t shoot himself in the foot or something, but it was still fun.” Jak shrugged. He and Daxter had only been sixteen when they borrowed the gun for the first time, and although it was dangerous, he was thankful for the little experience he _did_ receive before Basic Training.

The remainder of the meal went off without a hitch. Questions continued to flow, this time Jak throwing some out instead of Taryn doing all the heavy lifting. Simple questions, like favorite color, animal, food, and drink, filled the air between their table until their plates were cleaned and they were left with full bellies.

“That was as good as I remembered.” The ex-soldier patted his stomach and leaned back in the chair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

“I regret having never visited this place before. It was delicious.” Taryn pushed her empty plate toward the edge of the table and folded her used napkin atop it, giving the restaurant a good glance over before her gaze returned to Jak. “I suppose I’ll have to keep this place in mind for the future.”

“We’ll have to return, for sure.” The blond nodded. “Oh. Earlier, when you brought up the NYFE races? I was wondering if _you_ ever raced before?”

Taryn pursed her lips. “No. I’ve always wanted to, but I never found the time for it. I’ve watched enough of them, though.” She rubbed at her chin, eyebrows furrowing. “One of these days, Jak, we should ask Keira about taking some of her bikes for a quick spin around the track. An impromptu race, if you will.”

“Are we betting this time, too?”

“Of course.” A coy smile cast her lips upward. “Wouldn’t be fun if something weren’t at stake.”

“I can respect that.” The ex-soldier bobbed his head. After a moment of silent contemplation between the duo, Jak adjusted himself in his seat to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. Throwing down enough bills to cover the expenses of the meal with an included tip, Jak rose from the table and offered a hand to Taryn as she scooted her seat back to do the same.

She took his hand, standing and pushing her chair back underneath the table before Jak led them outside and into the chilly evening air.

He released her hand to open the door, following her and making way to the cruiser.  

His blue-haired companion snuck her hand back into his as they walked, giving it a gentle squeeze but keeping her gaze fixed forward.

Her hand was warm and soft to the touch, a stark difference when compared to his weathered palms sprinkled with calluses, scars, and an overall roughness from his years of working, fighting, and _surviving_. He wondered just how soft the rest of her would be, but quickly smothered those thoughts. Too soon. _Way_ too soon.

Jak cleared his throat, moving and opening the passenger door for her. She clambered in with ease, Jak’s hand leaving her’s as the door closed.

The blond joined her inside, climbing into the driver’s side and looking at her with a gentleness in his gaze that was a different look for him.

In the dim lighting of the parking lot, Jak could see her silhouette highlighted in a shade of yellow-y orange that complemented her.

She turned and smiled at him, a gesture that he gladly returned as he made to start the vehicle. However, something stayed his hand. He let his fingers fall from the ignition as his body turned toward his companion.

Taryn opened her mouth to say something, noticing the oddness of his movement, but a hand reaching out into the soft lighting between them, palm up, made her swallow her words. Visible in the dim glow from outside were the scars on his wrist and palms, something Jak was forced to wear as a constant reminder of his captivity, and he prayed Taryn didn’t mention them.

This was a momentous feat for Jak. A simple gesture that he hadn’t ever had, or at least barely experienced. A simple way to say _“I like you and I care”_ without openly saying the phrase. A simple way for him to overcome the obstacles that restrained him from feeling like a normal person.

The ex-soldier wore a timid look, but she countered his shyness with a bold grin and rested her palm on his open one, wiggling her fingers between his spread ones and tightening her grip.

This was something Jak could see himself getting used to again.


	6. Bad Company

“Keira? Are you here?” Jak wandered through the main entrance of the Stadium garage, eyes scanning the area for the familiar head of green hair. When he found the place devoid of life, he moved from there to the main track, which was where he heard his long-time friend chatting with someone in a hushed manner.

A redheaded man wearing a peculiar bug-like helmet and dressed head-to-toe in KG armor, a thick, yellow stripe running along the sides of the arms, legs, and top, stood beside Keira, all too close to be comfortable according to the expression the mechanic wore on her face. Or perhaps she was flustered? Jak couldn’t quite read the mood from where he stood, but that didn’t stop him from moving closer to the scene.

The KG was saying something that Jak couldn’t quite make out, but Keira was shaking her head and backing away from him. He could just barely make out her words of, “I said no,” from where he stood near the track entrance, but that was enough to kick the blond into gear.

Loudly, Jak spoke, “There you are, Keira, I was looking for you.” He gave the stranger a hard stare as he rounded up to the duo, noticing that this man had tattoos on his face much like Torn.

A quick flash of relief danced across the mechanic’s green eyes. “Sorry, Jak. I would’ve met you in the garage, but—”

“I was keeping her. I’m terribly sorry.” The redhead straightened out his spine, giving Jak a onceover with a scrutinizing gaze, which lingered on the ex-soldier far too long to be comfortable. “My mechanic recently left, so I was hoping to hire Keira as my new one. She’s the best in town and shows much promise.”

Keira shuffled her feet, eyes cast downward as she tucked a stray clump of hair behind her ear. “I have too much on my plate as is, so another client, Commander of the KG or not, I just can’t handle right now.”

“I promised you _double_ the pay. You could afford to lose a client or two.” The man sighed heavily, but he shifted his attention back to the blond. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced before.” He stuck out a gloved hand. “Erol.”

Jak was hesitant to shake the man’s hand, but he didn’t want to come off as impolite, so he took the offered limb and returned the firm shake. “Jak.”

Erol nodded, moving his hand back to his side. He ran his amber eyes over the blond, sizing him up again as a ghost of a smile shadowed his lips. “Do you race, Jak?”

Caught off guard by the question, the ex-soldier hesitated. “Uh, no. Never really thought much about it.”

The redhead hummed. “Have you ever _seen_ a race then? You seem the type to like high-thrills.”

Jak wondered what gave off _that_ impression, even though this stranger had hit the nail on the head—he _did_ like high-thrills and dangerous stunts, even if it was stupid. He shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“A shame. The old races were more fun. Less safely regulations and more about the sport.”

“I think the new changes to the raceway are a good thing. Less injuries and death.” Keira chimed in, shrugging her shoulders and keeping her eyes anywhere but on Erol.

The man smiled at her fondly, but chose not to continue that line of conversation as he fixed his gaze back on the blond. “Perhaps we’ll meet someday on the racetrack, Jak. I have heard rumor that the championship is coming up soon, so what better time to jump into the fray, hm?”

“I’ll have to think about it, but, maybe.” Jak rose his shoulders in nonchalance. Taryn had mentioned racing to him, saying he’d be good, and now a stranger was practically telling him the same thing.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t want to intrude any longer. Keira, please at least reconsider my offer. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He made a final bob of the head toward her, then shot a cunning grin at Jak. “It was nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Like wise.” The ex-soldier nodded politely.

Erol showed one last smile before turning and swiftly departing, not sparing the duo a glance.

Jak watched him go, waiting until he was out of sight before looking at his friend, who was focused on where Erol had disappeared. “So, that man is a Commander in the KG?”

Keira slowly turned her focus back on Jak. “Yeah. He’s also the Champion of the racetrack.”

So _this_ was the champion Taryn had mentioned to him days before when the NYFE races came up in conversation. Good to know. That also explained the sudden topic of racing and the mention of the championship.

Jak hummed. “He seems, uh, nice, I suppose.”

“He can be.” The mechanic averted her eyes, putting a hand on her hip. “He can also be rather bossy and a little rude, but he does have his nice moments. To me, at least. I can’t speak for anyone else, especially any of the KG who work directly under him. Now _those_ are some different stories, but it’s all hearsay anyway.” She laughed lightly, a dusting of rose coloring her cheeks that wasn’t there beforehand.

Jak raised an eyebrow, but decided against questioning anything. Keira was a grown woman who could make her own decisions, whatever they may be. Who was Jak to question her?

Hagai cocked her head to the side. “By the way, Jak, what are you doing here? You rarely visit in the garage, or visit in general.”

The blond rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I haven’t seen much of you since I’ve been back, and that’s my fault, I know.” He left off the part about him feeling guilty, not wanting to open that can of worms. He may have been good friends with Keira, and they may have had a past, but he wasn’t _that_ close enough with her to share certain details of his life. Not anymore. Only one person could know _almost_ everything, and he already knew the scoop.

“That’s really sweet of you.” She patted his shoulder as she walked by, but quickly retracted her hand when he flinched away from her touch. Her head tilted to the side again, but she was thankfully quiet and instead motioned for him to follow. “It’s good to see you. It hasn’t quite been the same around here without you. You should really come by more often.”

“So I’ve been told.” He followed the mechanic back into the garage and watched as she leaned against a table cluttered with various vehicle parts, tools, and papers. “I’ll to try to make an effort of popping in now and then.”

“Good.” She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. “Daddy’s been asking about you. He wants to see you.”

The blond ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been kind of avoiding him.”

“What for?”

“You, of all people, should know how your father is.”

“Pushy? Bossy? Tells exactly what’s on his mind, which can be blunt, but is in fact the truth? Yeah, I know. But, why would that alone keep you from at least saying hi? You’ve been here for a few months now, Jak, and you haven’t seen him _once_.” Keira pushed off the table to put her hands on her hips and stare at him with a nagging look in her eye.

The ex-soldier frowned, but easily relented to the pressure she was applying. He couldn’t avoid Samos forever. “Fine. I’ll pay him a visit, okay?”

“All right then.” She moved her hands and proceeded to remove her work gloves, tossing them on the already cluttered table and staring at Jak expectantly.

The blond tilted his head. “What?”

“Let’s go.”

“ _Right now_?”

“Right now.” The green-haired woman turned and made for the main entrance of the garage, stopping only to wait for the blond to follow.

Jak sighed heavily and complied, following his long-time friend with a slump to his shoulders. “Why now? I came to visit _you_ , not you and your father. And this is sort of abrupt, don’t you think?”

“Because I need a break from work and I know you won’t go on your own, so abrupt or not let’s go.” Keira smiled, locking up the garage and moving to the parking area out front with Jak in tow the entire time. “I’ll let you ride my new zoomer if it’ll help lift your spirits? Although, honestly, my father isn’t _that_ bad. He’s mellowed some with age, I think.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jak rolled his eyes, but for the sake of checking out the new vehicle, he shut his trap and straightened his posture a little. “New zoomer, you say.”

Keira released a sigh, resting one hand on her hip as she continued to lead the way to her vehicle. “You boys and your fascination with new toys. I can’t rightly blame you though. I was drooling too when I first got my hands on this baby.”

The vehicle in question was a retired air racer, the quirky composition a drastically different flavor when compared to a standard street model. Modifications were done to the bike, resulting in a fresh paint job, a combination of gunmetal gray and purple, and the capabilities to seat, at most, two bodies instead of one. The lack of armor had been upgraded to ensure safety instead of ultimate death, which Jak assumed was probably one of the first changes Keira had done to the vehicle so it was considered street legal.

“How the hell did you manage to get your hands on one of these for everyday use? I thought they were banned from the street because they were dangerous and fast?” Jak reached a hand out, resting it on the hood and admiring the fine work.

“When you work at the NYFE Raceway and are surrounded by air racers going in and out, its pretty easy to procure an old model to play around with. This is actually one of the top of the line ones we used to use a few years ago. It finally hit its time and we had to retire it from the track, but I fixed it up and now it’s my new mode of transport. I changed quite a few things under the hood and added protection so I won’t get thrown by just a small jarring, which was a big factor in making this baby legal. No one can complain if there’s nothing to complain about.”

The adoring look on Keira’s face intensified as her eyes remained fixed on the vehicle. “Racing has gotten safer over the years. No more open sides so the drivers are easily tossed out. Too many complaints and injuries, so most of the old models like this one were about to get booted anyway. Give it time and you’ll see your fair share of these modified bikes on the street in no time, especially after everyone takes a gander at my own and wants one for themselves.” She laughed, giving the air racer-turned-zoomer a loving pat.

Jak had to admit that the look on her face when she talked about her work was something he loved about her. Keira took her business seriously, even when said business was just a hobby of hers. The determination this woman wielded was something Jak simply wished he had more of.

She pulled her goggles up from around her neck and secured them over her eyes, casting a beaming grin his way. “All right, let’s get going, shall we?”

l 

lll

l

“Jak! It’s about time you paid this old man a visit.” Keira’s elderly father, Samos, boomed from the kitchen when his wise eyes landed on the ex-soldier. “You’ve grown up since I last saw you. How was the army?”

Keira offered an apologetic smile to the blond as she joined her father, who was currently standing on a wooden stool hovering over a boiling pot on the stove.

Jak flashed her a brief smile in return before focusing his blue gaze on the old man. He was just as Jak remembered him—short, old, and with a voice that demanded authority. The elderly man hadn’t changed a bit since Jak last saw him, which wasn’t a bad thing. He still wore the same glasses that made his eyes bug out, and his white beard reached his knees. It almost looked like he wasn’t wearing any pants due to the shorts he wore stopping just above where his beard rested, but the illusion was shattered pretty quickly.

The blond moved to stand near the small kitchen table. “It was about what you’d expect.”

Samos grunted in reply and stepped down from the stool with more grace than Jak would have expected. He came to stand beside the blond, causing the younger male to crane his neck downwards to meet his eyes.

“You’ve matured. I can see it in your eyes, boy. But—” He tilted his head and squinted, adjusting his glasses to get a better view of the young man before him. He huffed and shook his head, deciding not to comment on whatever it was that had piqued his interest. Samos not only dabbled in herbal medicine, but also had a secret interest in spiritual healing. He was good at it, and when it came to reading people, oftentimes he would be spot on. “Would you like to stay for lunch? I’ve been busy cooking some stew and I’ve made plenty. Hell, you can even take some home with you to Daxter and Tess, if you’d like.”

Jak wanted to decline the offer. Not because he didn’t like Samos’ cooking, although that could sometimes be questionable, but because he was tired and didn’t want to socialize this much. He had only planned the day to see Keira, not Keira _and_ her father.

One reason why Jak took so long to reunite with some of his friends was because he was tired of telling the same facts repeatedly, and he was tired of being connected to the army in every starting conversation he’d had since returning. Couldn’t people just accept that, yes, he’d served, but no, he didn’t want to talk about it or remember it? Apparently, that was too much to ask, but as Taryn had told him before: it was common ground. And when Jak didn’t openly tell them to drop it, he couldn’t exactly complain. People couldn’t read minds, so it was unfair of him to assume that everyone could read _his_.

It was his fault, anyway. The common person didn’t know that his time served was a sore subject, so he couldn’t rightly blame them for finding a topic starter that could be eased into.

With his mental battle over, Jak decided to stay. At least this way, after spending hopefully no more than a couple of hours with Keira and her father, he would be able to get out of future gatherings easier. He’d leave in a state of mental exhaustion, but he wouldn’t have to make the effort to socialize with them again for at least a few months before the guilt became too much.

“Yeah, sure, I can stay.” The blond nodded.

“Splendid!” Samos beamed, hobbling back to the stool where he proceeded to stir the bubbling pot. He grabbed a clean spoon from a drawer and tasted the concoction with a hum. “I do believe it’s done. Keira, fetch the bowls, would you?”

The green-haired woman nodded and did as asked. She placed them near her father on the counter next to the stove and walked over to Jak. “Thanks for staying. It’s like old times, isn’t it?” She motioned for him to sit and then proceeded to grab spoons while Samos dished out the murky stew.

Jak had to admit that the food smelled amazing. It wasn’t often that Samos’ cooking was bad, per say, but the man did enjoy experimenting with new recipes, especially with the things he grew in his garden. He supposed that was where Keira got her interest in playing around with mechanics—same dance with a different song.

Jak’s eyes wandered around the kitchen as he took his seat at the table and waited. He’d grown up in this house. It was the only home he had known, and he found an odd comfort in being back in his childhood home surrounded by the same ugly wallpaper, a pale yellow with a floral pattern, the same creaky wooden flooring, and the ever embarrassing but amusing photos of the ‘family’ hung all over the walls of not just the kitchen, but the entirety of the house. It brought a smile to Jak’s face remembering a time before the war tainted him.

After the other two took their seats, Samos at the head of the table with Jak and Keira on either side facing each other, the chatter started, mixed in with the clinking of silverware on porcelain bowls.

“What have you been up to, my boy?” Samos cast a glance toward the ex-soldier, bringing a spoonful of the stew to his lips.

“Not much, really, mostly just trying to get back to the normal way of things.” Jak shrugged his shoulders, looking to the old man only briefly before he focused his gaze on the bowl before him.

“He started helping the cause, Daddy.” Keira chimed in, looking at Jak with an encouraging grin.

“Is that so?” The old man placed his spoon down in his bowl and gave Jak his full attention. “I’m glad to hear that. We can use someone with your experience on our side. I used to serve back in the day, you know. Before this Metal Head nonsense and we were fighting off Lurkers in the jungle. _Those_ people were something else.” Samos shook his head, momentarily losing himself in thought before an obnoxious tone jostled him back into alertness.

Jak jumped from the noise too, and all eyes landed on Keira as she sheepishly checked her cell phone and frowned at the caller ID. “It’s Torn.” She mumbled, swiftly answering the call. “Hello?”

Jak watched her face curiously, noticing how her eyes narrowed just the slightest and her mouth formed a tight line.

“Hm, yeah, he’s here with me. Did you need us there?” She paused. “Oh, okay, see you soon.” She ended the call and cast that somber look on her father. “Daddy, I’m sorry, but Jak and I have to go. Some important business just came up at The Underground and Torn needs us right away.”

Samos nodded. “Of course. Just like you kids to leave the old man to do all the cleaning up, and before we even had a chance to properly eat, too.” He waved a gnarled hand at the two younger people in the room, but he had a rough smile on his face. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” Keira stood up and kissed her father quickly on the cheek before depositing her and Jak’s nearly full bowls on the countertop.

“It was nice to see you again, Samos.” Jak nodded at the old man as he and Keira moved for the front door.

“You as well, Jak. Take care of yourself. Oh! And I expect you to come back and visit again, you hear me? I’m not getting any younger! And now you owe me a proper meal, since we got rudely interrupted.”

“Sure, I promise.” Jak laughed breathily, sending a partial wave toward the old man before the door cut them off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on updating so soon, but my burst of inspiration kinda blew up, so I rolled with it haha
> 
> This time we get to meet Erol and Samos, some familiar faces who needed to have their introductions sooner rather than later. Surprisingly enough, despite a rough beginning with Erol and various changes I made to the first few drafts, this chapter was kinda easy to grind out. It was simple, and had the sole purpose of showing Jak interacting with some different faces.
> 
> As usual, thanks to Solziv for beta-reading!
> 
> And thanks to everyone who has read and left reviews! I appreciate the support and interest in this story :)


	7. Intro

“It’s about time.” That gruff voice met Jak’s ears the second he and Keira stepped into the brunet’s line of sight.

The blond rolled his eyes, joining the tattooed man at the table and noticing how disheveled everything in the hideout appeared. “Don’t act like you were waiting on me.”

“Actually, I was. I even went so far as calling around trying to locate your ass.” Torn bit back with a grumble.

Jak narrowed his eyes. “Really. What’s so important?”

The KG organized a loose stack of papers into an orderly pile to busy his hands. He rose his gaze to stare at his company, the overhead light throwing harsh shadows across his face and giving him an almost ominous appearance.

To Jak’s left, Keira shifted uncomfortably, curious herself about what this was about but not uttering so much as a peep. Torn had a way of raising tension in a room to the point that it was suffocating, and for some people, like Keira, that was enough to keep them silent.

“Dead Town has been infested with Metal Heads. An informant of ours let us know, so we have a bigger problem on our hands than I would like to admit.” Torn yanked a chair out from under the table, sitting on it and receiving a groan from the worn wood at his sudden weight.

A heavy silence occupied the air then, Jak swallowing thickly as he let the words sink in. ‘Infested’ was never a good word. That could only mean that Dead Town was compromised, which was bad news for Haven.

Jak was at a loss for words, but Hagai spoke for him, her curiosity niggling her to the point of breaking her silence. “What happened?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper, but the stale air of the bunker allowed the soft words to travel unhindered.

The tattooed man glanced up, his stare landing on the green-haired woman with a pointed look. “More showed up, what else? Killing a few here and there was useless. We’re pressed for time, so you’re going to be learning a lot of new information about the Underground that I normally wouldn’t share with a newbie like yourself.” The brunet straightened his back, sharp blue eyes crashing with Jak’s own. “Consider it an accelerated course.”

Jak nodded slowly. “I’m used to that. Basic was cut in half because they were short on time and needed more men.”

“Sounds like the Haven Army. I think they’ve always been short on time, but so have we. If I had it my way, you’d still need to prove yourself, but Tess has vouched for you, and you’re one of few who actually has experience, so my hands are tied. Don’t disappoint me, Jak.”

The grating of metal suddenly rang through the room, capturing the attention of the party and causing Torn’s attention to shift. “So, the other one finally makes an appearance at last. I’ve been waiting for you, too.” The tattooed man rose, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to his right side. He spared Keira a brief glance. “Thank you for bringing Jak. I don’t need you at the moment, so you’re free to leave.”

The mechanic bobbed her head. “All right.” She focused on her companion, patting his arm gently. “I guess I’ll be seeing you, then. Call if you need a ride back home, ‘kay?” Without provocation, she leaned on her toes and planted a brief kiss on Jak’s cheek, successfully stunning him as she bounded up the stairs and through the open doorway, giving the new visitor a quick smile before she was gone.

A fleeting twinge of anger shot through Jak’s veins. Who was Keira to kiss him like that? Although the air between them had long since stilled, to think they were at all close enough to condone such an action was beyond his understanding. Not to mention his general dislike of touching being impeded on _twice_ in the same moment before he could even _blink_. The anger boiling beneath his skin he knew was an overreaction, and yet he whirled around to follow the green-haired woman, ready to say his distaste on the matter, but immediately shut his opening mouth when his eyes fell on the newcomer—a familiar face he hadn’t seen in roughly three years.

Dirty blond hair pulled back in a low, haphazard ponytail, olive colored tank top dirtied and stained from grease and oil, tan cargo pants not appearing in any better condition, red scarf secured around his throat, and an unlit cigar hanging from his lips—Jinx hadn’t changed since the last time he and Jak saw each other.

“Holy shit, is that you, Jakkie-boy?” The explosives expert’s green eyes grew large and his mouth gaped open—yet the cigar somehow remained in place.

Jak groaned, putting a hand to his forehead and shaking his head as annoyance replaced anger. “I _was_ happy to see you, until you opened your mouth with that stupid nickname.”

Jinx laughed sharply, the sound too loud for the short distance between them. He stepped down the few steps and joined them around the table, clapping a heavy hand on Jak’s shoulder and giving a good squeeze.

The blond promptly shut his eyes, the sudden pressure on his body bringing that anger back tenfold and causing him to stiffen. Normally, despite the touch being generally unwanted regardless of the giver, he wouldn’t have minded it too bad, but this time it was almost too much. With Keira’s out-of-blue kiss and unwarranted touch just moments before, he supposed that residual anger was still on the surface waiting to boil again. Or perhaps it was just an increase of his recent strange behavior he blamed on his time in captivity? Regardless, he bit his tongue and kept from retorting with something nasty, having just enough self-control. He had missed Jinx, even though the brute was loud and oftentimes too much, but he loved Daxter, didn’t he? And that man was ten times worse than Jinx could ever dream of being.

Jinx moved his hand, not noticing the mood swing just below his palm, and laughed away at something Torn had said. “History is just the surface of it, but you would know. The kind of comradery ya get in the army is different than what ya can find on civilian streets.”

“Same can be said for being in the Krimzon Guard, only the army was friendlier.” Torn sat back down in the old chair, his stare landing on Jak who hadn’t seemed to fully recover from his internal episode.

Jinx followed the tattooed man’s gaze. Noticing the weird look on his comrade’s face, he gave him a slight shake. “You okay there, Blondie?”

“Peachy.” Jak shook his head, pushing away that purple haze and giving his old friend a proper look over and greeting with a tight smile. “How long have you been back in town?”

The older blond gave his friend a deep frown, not convinced by his words, but he let it slide for the time being. “Eh, about three years now, I think? I served my four years, so I’m officially out and a free man unless I decide to go another round.” He reached up, plucking his cigar from his lips and reaching into a pocket. He removed a lighter, a cheap plastic thing, and lit the end of the plump stick. “Not that I wanna go for another four years, mind ya. But what about you? You’re back a little soon, aren’t ya? I was on my last year when you were doing your first, right? So you should have one more year left if I did my math right.”

Jak nodded slowly. “Yeah. I had some _complications_ and was released early. I’ve been back a few months now.”

Jinx wore his mouth in a grim line, bobbing his head briskly. “Just glad you’re back, Jakkie-Boy. And in one piece, too.”

“Right back at you, Jinx. It’s good to see you again.”

“If you guys are done with the reunion, I’d like to get this mission going.” Torn butt in, his usual expression of scowling indifference as prominent as ever.

“Right.” Jak crossed his arms. “So, Dead Town—”

“Is compromised. I have two contacts I want you to meet. The first one is located somewhere in the Gardens. She’ll have an envelope for you with information I need regarding the Metal Heads and their presumed locations and hideouts in Dead Town. Bring this envelope to me, and then I’ll send you out to Dead Town to do the fun work, as Jinx considers it. That’s where the second contact comes into effect. The Power Station is where you’ll pick up the explosives to plant on the Metal Head hideouts. Should snuff out those bastards, or at least show them not to mess around with Haven.”

“Shouldn’t the KG be playing with bombs and blowing up baddies? Why are _we_ doing this?” Jak frowned.

The brunet rolled his eyes. “You, of all people, should know why _we_ have to do this. With the Baron working with the enemy, who we’re apparently staving off in the desert, I bet he let them get this close on purpose to scare the populace. If they get close and the Baron sends out men to ‘wipe them all out,’ then he looks good. But if _we_ do it, the Baron can sit on his throne and fume because he was too late, and the Metal Heads will only have him to blame.”

Jinx shuffled his feet, adjusting his cigar with a frown. “I still can’t believe that’s true, that the Baron is working with those freaks. Doesn’t seem such a smart move, but whatever. Bada-bing bada-boom, eh? We’ll get this shit taken care of.”

The younger blond raised a questioning eyebrow, giving Jinx a level stare at the unusual phrase but not commenting on it. He blamed the smoker’s weirdness on the fact that he was born and partially raised in Kras City. Jak wondered if that’s where his friend’s obsession with demolitions began, considering Kras was known for it’s dangerous, _explosive,_ racing.

“It’s a smart move when he knows Kor is stronger than him and outnumbers him by hundreds if not more. If the Metal Heads wanted to, they would’ve already had Haven under their control.” Jak locked gazes with his old comrade. “What I want to know is why so many of us are dying out there. We’re killing them, too, but it doesn’t seem to add up.”

“In order to put on the perfect act, sacrifices must be made.” Torn stood, moving around the table to the map that was a permanent fixture. “Even if that means losing perfectly good men to a useless fight out in a sandbox.” The tattooed man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “It’s a damn shame his own fucking daughter can’t even talk sense into him. He’s keeping secrets from just about everyone in the city, and it’s about time we blow the lid off his bullshit and get the people actively doing something. Which is why we’re doing this mission in the first place.” He tapped the map just near the Gardens district, getting both men to look downwards at the spot. “The first contact is here. She goes by ‘R’. Get that envelope and I’ll see you back here.”

“No description of this ‘R’ chick?” Jinx raised a brow, blowing smoke past his lips before taking another puff.

“You’ll know she’s the one when you see her. Just look for a woman loitering in the Gardens. She’ll probably be near the entrance to the Mountains.” Torn crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot. “Just hurry up and get back here. The clock is ticking.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The smoker waved a hand at the scowling man before flashing a beaming grin at Jak. “All right, Blondie! Just like good ol’ times, eh? Let’s go do some grunt work then get ta blowin’ shit up!”

Jak laughed, following his explosive friend up the stairs and out of the Underground hideout.

l 

lll 

l 

The Gardens were bustling with traffic affronting both the airways and the ground, but the blond duo maneuvered with ease through the metal frames of fellow cruisers as their destination grew closer.

Jinx puffed at his cigar quietly, staring out the side window as Jak focused on driving and avoiding stupid people. After a few more moments of silence, only the air whipping passed them and the roar of engines filling the space between them, the older blond glanced about the cruiser he was sat in with a brow raised. “Is this yer ride?”

Before they began their mission, they’d hitched a ride on an air bus to Jak’s place and picked up his cruiser so they’d have reliable transportation. Neither man wanted to risk relying on public transport, which, in Haven especially, was late more often than not.

The younger blond spared a quick glance at his passenger. “Yeah. Daxter and I went halves on it before I joined up and left. He doesn’t use it often, so I get it most of the time.”

The smoker grunted, bobbing his head in approval. “It’s a nice ride, even if the color is shitty and it’s a bit rusty here and there.”

The driver laughed. “The color wasn’t my idea, I promise.”

Jinx smiled, taking another drag of the plump stick. “So, Jak, there’s been a question naggin’ at the back of mind since earlier.”

“Is this about why I got out a year early?”

“Yeah. You also were actin’ a bit funny back there.”

Jak sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he kept his focus straight ahead. “Let’s just say some things happened after you left. I got sent out on a suicide mission, and I’m not the same after what I saw and went through.”

Jinx’s attention was on his comrade, watching Jak’s countenance and overall body language as he vaguely gave his reasons for missing a year of his service. He could tell the younger blond did not want to talk about it, so the older of the two gave a brief nod and accepted the other’s answer. “Just glad to see you back, Blondie. I missed ya. You were good company, even for a rookie.”

Jak relaxed a bit, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. I could say the same to you.” He shook his head, slowing the vehicle some as traffic picked up a bit. “Say, Jinx? When did you join the Underground? And _why_?”

“I know some people who are actively in it. I didn’t join until about a year ago though. I took a break from pretty much everythin’ ‘cause I was tired of shit, until Tess roped me back in. She said I was getting restless and it was annoying her, so she made me talk to Torn.” He shrugged, looking back out the window. “That, and the Baron pisses me off with how he treats us all, but that feelin’ didn’t grow until _after_ joining the Underground.” He turned his attention on the driver, an eyebrow raised. “What about you? I’m surprised to see you workin’ like this if you went through some shit in the army.”

Jak deflated some, his gaze tired as his lips frowned. “I didn’t _want_ to jump back into the fray, believe me, but I joined the army in the hopes of helping and making a difference. I didn’t do anything while in service and instead came back with PTSD, so the bullshit aside, I can actually help people and make changes to my city in the Underground. I also don’t want my trauma to make me weak. The only way to get over something is to confront it, right?”

Jinx was openly staring at him again, but he swallowed and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah. That’s one way of copin’, I ‘spose.”

“It works for me. I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.”

“Hands-on, eh?” The smoker turned the tables of the conversation, one eyebrow cocked in amusement and making Jak groan and shake his head in exasperation. At least the mood was lighter now.

“Precursors, no wonder you’re friends with Taryn. You both have the same humor.”

“You know Taryn?” The older blond’s face lit up.

Jak nodded. “Yeah, met her through Daxter and Tess one day. We’ve worked a mission for Torn together once so far and hung out here and there.”

“Ah, so she finally decided to join too, eh? Good for her.”

Before any more chatter could be exchanged, they arrived at the gate leading to the Mountains and were coming to a stop. Jak parked quickly and exited his orange cruiser, Jinx clambering out and joined his younger companion on the driver’s side, both scouting the area for any potential contacts.

“Ya see any ladies, Blondie?”

“Nope.” Jak shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight, squinting as he scanned the vicinity.

“Hm, how ‘bout that one?” The smoker pointed with his cigar.

Jak followed the smoky trail, his eyes meeting with a large woman who could probably crush them both with her arms without breaking a sweat. He didn’t think she was the contact they were looking for, especially given her quick pace.

Jinx was moving on to the next one, this time pointing out a lithe figure of a brunette who sauntered by them. The older blond’s eyes followed this one even when Jak had pointedly told him she wasn’t the contact, but it appeared his companion was simply skirt-chasing with his eyes. That fact was cemented when the following four women his friend mentioned all held one thing in common—a nice ass and a nice rack.

The blond let out a heavy breath, giving Jinx a fixed glare as annoyance flashed into anger and that purple haze was threatening the edges of his vision. “Will you please focus? Damn, you haven’t changed one bit, have you?”

Jinx harrumphed and took a long drag off his cigar. “Can ya blame me? There’re some smokin’ pieces out here. I’m surprised you ain’t lookin’ yourself, unless you already got yourself a lady?”

Jak’s face and ears tinted pink faster than he could respond, but his expression held all the answer the smoker needed.

“So you _do_ have a lady. Or at least one in mind.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Good for you, man.”

The younger man was fixing to say something, anything, when a figure off in the distance caught his attention. “Wait. I see someone over there. Maybe _she’s_ the one?”

Jinx followed where he pointed, on the other side of the gate entrance, removing the cigar from his mouth as if doing that would help him see better.

A woman clad in a long sleeve, olive top, khaki pants, brown lace-up boots that reached her knees, and a hat reminiscent of a racing helmet, stood just a ways off the main road leading to the Mountain Gate. She had her nose buried in a cellphone, eyes focused on the rectangular device rather than her surroundings.

The demolitions expert hiked an eyebrow up. “Only one way to find out if she’s the one.” And he was on the move, previous conversation forgotten and not waiting to see if his friend was following him or not. When he was close enough, he put on a smirk and came to a halt near her.

Said woman looked up when she felt the presence of someone. Her dark eyes swept over the two men, taking them in with a scrutiny they weren’t expecting, but she nodded and smiled coyly when she met gazes with them. Apparently, they had passed her inspection. “Hello, boys. What can I help you with?” Her voice held a twang that Jak was unfamiliar with, something of a lilt to her tongue that gave off the impression she was of high-class standards.

“Are you ‘R’?” Jak cut right to the chase. The sooner they got this envelope, the sooner they could get the other half of this mission done with.

The woman tucked a stray piece of dark blue hair behind her ear, placing her phone away in a pocket attached to her belt and shifting her weight to one leg. Her smile grew. “That depends on who’s asking.”

“Torn. He sent us.” Jak blurted. “So, are you R or not?”

Jinx shot his comrade a dirty look, eyes narrowed and fingers holding his cigar tighter than usual. He shifted his gaze back on the femme, all previous intent to flirt and play around lost as his mood was momentarily soured. “We were told a certain lady would have some info for us.” He bit out.

“Hm, well, you’re in luck then.” The woman rested a hand on her hip, tilting her head to the side with a coy smile. She reached into her top, which Jak noticed was more an olive jacket over a pastel yellow blouse, and retrieved a thin package. “I suspect he’ll be pleased with this.”

Jinx took the envelope and gave the woman a nod, eyes lingering just briefly on her chest as he folded the information and tucked it into a pouch at his side, unusually quiet.

“Would you mind passing on a bit of information to Torn for me? While you boys are still busy playing fetch, that is.”

The men shared a glance, but both bobbed their heads.

“Excellent.” R beamed at them. “Some of my little birds have informed me about the Baron’s suspicions regarding his stance. I’d suggest him getting out as soon as possible, lest you lot lose your main coordinator.”

“Your birds?” The younger blond raised an eyebrow.

R hummed, her smiled spreading again. “My birds, yes. I have contacts all over the city, including deep within the Palace and far outside of it. Why do you think I’m an Underground contact?” She laughed softly, resting a hand on her chest. “If you ever need information, rest assured I’ll have it for you.”

“Good to know.” Jak crossed his arms.

Jinx gave her quick look over. “How long have you been a contact? I haven’t seen ya ‘round before.”

“Only for about a year now, I believe? And no, we haven’t met before today, but I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.” R dipped her head. “Hm, I haven’t gotten _your_ names. Who might I be enjoying the company of?”

The blond duo shared another glance, but Jinx was easily persuaded into giving his identity. Jak, on the other hand, felt less inclined to do so, even though he had no problem throwing Torn under the bus.

R saw his plight and offered him a gentle smile. “Come now. A name is but a name, and I’d like to know the company I’m keeping.”

Jak raised an eyebrow. “Then what about you? I doubt ‘R’ is _your_ real name.”

The blue-haired woman smirked, her gaze twisting playfully. “You’re right about that, but I work several sides of the field. I must keep some secrets to stay safe. You boys, on the other hand, aren’t in such a precarious situation. But, if it makes you feel better, feel free to give me a letter of your choosing. I just need something so I can put a name to your handsome face.”

The younger blond’s cheeks flushed lightly, but he divulged his name, finding her logic good enough.

“I’ve heard about both of you in passing, so I’m pleased to finally have a face for the names.” R cocked her head to the side, smiling at the blonds’. She pointed at Jinx. “You’re the explosives expert, yes?”

The smoker nodded. “Sure am.”

“Then that makes you the rookie.” She pointed at Jak next.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Just making sure I’ve got the facts straight. You two be careful out there in Dead Town. From what I’ve heard, it’s gotten worse out there.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Jak frowned.

“Anytime.” She flashed him a charming grin, then clapped her hands together. “Well, as much as I do enjoy conversing, it’d be best if I got going lest we raise suspicions. I trust all will go well with that given information, and do please inform Torn of my warning.” She flashed them another sweet smile, then tossed a wave and turned on her heel, heading away from the gate and deeper into the Gardens. “Take care, boys! And it was a pleasure meeting you both.”

Once she was swallowed up by the crowd of foot traffic, Jinx turned to Jak with a pointed look. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jak looked taken aback, eyes wide and confused as Jinx stood his ground. “What are you talking about?”

The smoker shook his head, rubbing at his eyes with a sigh. “Recon was never your strong suit, was it? Next time, don’t just blurt out a name like that, ‘kay? What if she wasn’t the one we were lookin’ for? And you just told some stranger, or worse yet, some _KG,_ that Torn sent us to pick up some info? Ya got lucky.”

Jak hadn’t thought about that. He had a feeling that she was R so he went with it, but he didn’t bat an eye at the consequences had she not been who they were looking for. Reconnaissance really _wasn’t_ his forte. He was more of an ‘act now, ask questions later’ kind of guy. He rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the ground. “Sorry.”

“Just watch it next time, eh? And the Underground really needs to get some sort of code system, so we can find people easier and avoid this sorta thing in the future.” He leaned down and snuffed out his cigar on the concrete. It left a black trail of ash where he wiped it, which Jak focused on even as Jinx was moving the topic along.

“Kind of a strange woman, don’tcha think? I ain’t seen her face before, but whatever. We’re just grunts, right? We’re not supposed to know every bit of business.”

“Reminds me of the army.”

“Take orders and question nothing? Yeah, it sure does.” Jinx met Jak’s stare. “Well, let’s get back to our tattooed dictator and get to the good shit already.”

The younger blond bobbed his head, turning and quietly making his way back to the cruiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I've been working on getting chapters ready to go, so as it stands right now, I have four more chapters (8-11) that all I need to do are read over a few more times and polish up before they're post worthy! This chapter in particular is the start of some new faces as well as the intro to some more action. The plot is also going to start taking a heavy turn, so be prepared for some good, good stuff happening soon!
> 
> Special thanks, as per usual, to Solziv for beta-reading! Also thank you for the "bada-bing" bit that Jinx says haha
> 
> Also, if it isn't already obvious by this point, I'm using Five Finger Death Punch songs for titles, including the main title. In particular, Battle Born I highly recommend giving a listen, considering it's the reason I named this story what I did. The lyrics, and the sound in general, fit with the story really well. Their other songs also hit close to home and resonate with this version of Jak, so if ya need some new tunes and wanna listen while ya read? I'd start with them.
> 
> That's not to say I won't be using titles from different bands, too. There are quite a few songs, especially from Slipknot, that fit the feel of this story and might fit better with a particular chapter. From now on, any song that differs from the usual, that being FFDP, I'll let y'all know.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! And thank you for reading and reviewing!


	8. Got Your Six

“O-oh! Right, you’re here for the bombs. Okay, hang on, I put them _somewhere_ around here.” The man speaking was a jittery mess, his white hair sticking straight up and held back by a pair of peculiar goggles. He shuffled around the Power Station, peering under electrical units and work stations in search of the bombs Jinx and Jak were sent to retrieve.

Jak was amused. This was his first time meeting Vin, yet another contact for the Underground who served as a technician and pretty much ran the electrical grid of the entire city by himself.

Jinx was getting restless waiting for the middle-aged man to find the bombs though, apparently finding his nervous silliness less amusing, but something else was itching at him. “Hey, Vin?”

“Yeah?” The white-haired man popped his head over one of the consoles, briefly making eye contact before he was gone and rummaging again.

“I gotta ask ya this. Why do _you_ have the explosives we need? I thought ya only worked the electrical problems and handled the grid.”

A disembodied chuckle floated through the air. “I know a thing or two about explosives, too, but the Power Station is an inconspicuous location for these kinds of things to be dropped off. Who would think to look _here_ with _me_ for contraband?”

“Fair enough.” Jinx grumbled, falling back and reaching into a pouch at his side for a fresh cigar. When he had it to his lips, lighter at the ready, Vin was up in a heartbeat.

“Hey! Absolutely _no_ smoking in here! Go outside with your nasty habit. And did you forget that we have _explosives_ in here? _Easy to detonate_ explosives?” The technician frowned, waiting until Jinx sighed and put away his cancer stick and lighter.

Vin nodded in approval and dipped back below another console, and after a few seconds of metal clinking, plastic scraping, and papers shuffling, a loud “ah-hah!” echoed throughout the room. The man pulled a box out from under one of the workstations and gestured to it. “Here they are. I hid them away in case any KG decided to pop their heads in and give me a fright, but I suppose I hid them _too_ well.”

The duo drew in close, peering down at the small box of explosives before them.

Jak raised an eyebrow. “Are these sticky bombs?”

Jinx nodded. “Yeah. A type of sticky bomb, anyway.” He knelt, picking one up carefully and giving it a good look over. The rectangular shape had a small screen attached to the top of it, wires sticking out of that and tucking in between the wrappings holding the bars together. “This’ll do nicely. Thanks, Vin.”

“Glad to be of help.” The jittery man adjusted his goggles, looking between the two men. “That was all you needed from me, right?”

The younger blond looked at Jinx and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Now the fun gets to start, and it’s about time, too. Torn was sure taking his sweet time earlier to give us the coordinates.” Jinx dropped the empty duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder onto the ground near the box. He started packing the explosives inside the bag carefully.

Jak narrowed his gaze, watching his companion work. “I thought he was relatively quick considering he had to figure that shit out on the spot. And then we threw him R’s curveball of a message. I don’t think he liked that.”

“His own fault for playing a dangerous game. Surprised he hasn’t defected already. Get out and stay hidden before his luck runs dry.” Jinx stood when he was finished, throwing the bag over his shoulder with a grunt. “Heavier than I thought.” He gave Vin an awkward pat on the shoulder, almost losing his grip on the bag from the weight he wasn’t used to, but he saved himself just in time.

The technician shook from the near scare and flinched from Jinx’s sudden hand, but he managed an anxious smile and offered a wave as they left his company.

l

lll 

l 

“All right now, Jak, we gotta be hella quiet and stealthy, ya got it? This is a delicate mission we can’t afford to screw up. Mostly because I don’t wanna hear Torn’s bitchin’ if we _do_ screw this up.” Jinx set the bag down, giving his shoulder a break and throwing a sharp look at Jak. This was a warning about what had happened earlier with R, but stealth and being slick in conversation were two different sides of recon, the first of which Jak could manage without a doubt.

Jak took the bag, hiking it onto his shoulder with a frown pulling his lips. “I’ve done stealth before, Jinx.”

The smoker grunted, his cloudy blue eyes glancing over the horizon with concern. “I don’t see a single soul out there. That could be bad _or_ good.”

Jak followed his gaze, scanning over the dirt hills, past murky water, and through crumbled, abandoned structures long forgotten. Dead Town used to be a sector of the city, a rural one where farming was prominent and the ocean spray was fresh and constantly filling your lungs. Jak had never known what it was once like, excluding photographs he’d seen depicting the lush greens of the foliage and the vibrant blues of the ocean and sky. The sector had fallen during the Lurker Wars, a time way past Jak’s age, but Samos had often spoke fondly of the place.

“Okay, so according to Torn’s _shitty_ map, we have to place the bombs in six places.” Jinx, who had the piece of paper out and studying its scribbles, pointed at the different locations. He then glanced up, eyes squinting as he tried to decipher the locations in 3D. “Looks like one is just to the left there. I think.”

“Ugh, I think this place got worse since I was last out here.” Jak scrunched his nose in distaste. The overall smell of rot and sewage was bad, worse than the Pumping Station, and what was left of the buildings were in poorer shape than the blond remembered.

“Yeah, the stench ain’t no rose garden, that’s for damn sure. But nowadays, where in Haven smells _good_?” Jinx snorted, rolling his eyes and pointed out another location. “I’d imagine most of ‘em are in the buildings, but according to our _lovely_ map, at least two are in more open places. We’ll have to be careful.”

The younger blond nodded. The dangers of the old structures in Dead Town were not something to play around in, even if kids _did_ like to play around in them, himself and Daxter included. It was all fun and games though until someone got hurt, and Jak could speak from experience.

“Let’s get moving then, although I don’t think doing this in broad daylight is so wise.”

“And why not? From what I remember, the Metal Heads prefer the cover of nightfall themselves, so us bein’ here so early oughta be a good thing.” The smoker shrugged, tucking away the map.

“Let’s just hope we don’t find any trouble.” Jak followed Jinx’s lead, sticking behind him as they crept through the deserted city sector. The murky water swallowed up a majority of the earth, forcing the duo to jump over to the next dry segment of land to avoid getting their boots wet. This patch of land housed a wooden ramp straight ahead, newer by the looks of it, that connected to a sloping piece of land that stretched outward and to the left. To the right was another path, broken up by smaller ‘steps’ of earth that poked above the misty surface. The path they took, however, was to the left, and they crossed over to it with a single leap.

Staying quiet and sticking close to the buildings around them, they entered through a crumbling doorway of one structure and came to a supposed dead end. Broken clumps of ceiling had long since fallen, creating a broken sort of staircase and allowing the duo to climb up to the second-floor platform, where they encountered a similar situation in the next room. Being wary of weak stone flooring and rotten wood, they managed to climb through the rest of the structure, ascending upwards and over till they found themselves along a narrow, open path four stories high.

As they neared the end of the exposed hall, the duo began noticing signs of life, mostly in the form of discarded wrappers and food tins. The connecting room was apparently one of these hideouts they were searching for. It was massive, and it had an upper floor, the one they were currently on, that overlooked the larger, lower room. Inside that lower area were bedrolls laid out in sloppy rows and make-shift fire pits scattered here and there, some even rigged with cooking pots and spits.

Looking up, Jak noticed that most of the ceiling here was intact, although that didn’t keep the amount of rubble that littered the floor from being any less.

“I reckon it’s safe to say this is place number one, although I coulda swore we shoulda come across another camp, or lookout, before this.” Jinx whispered with a frown, motioning for Jak to put the bag down.

Doing as requested, Jak stretched out his shoulder and let it get some feeling back. “Can’t always be perfect. I guess we can say the first spot was bogus but the second one is good. Unless the first place is below us?”

“Couldn’t be. Nothin’ under this place but rubble and that raunchy water. All the lower levels are compromised, so not an ideal set up for surveillance, y’know?”

“So, we have four locations after this, then, _if_ those are right.”

“Exactly.” The older blond dug around the bag and removed two sticky bombs. He handed one to his companion. “Aight, yer gonna stick that sonuva bitch somewhere good. Make sure the keypad there is online, so it can sync to the remote.”

“Got it, Boss.” Jak rolled his eyes, smirking as he slowly moved to the right-hand side of the upper platform. He kept his eyes peeled down below for any activity, but the place seemed devoid of life despite the obvious signs of it all around. Finding that odd but keeping his opinion on the matter to himself, the younger blond fixed the bomb in a discreet location that would properly detonate upon trigger and take out a good portion of his half of the upper level. Jinx did the same and the two met back in the middle, nodding their heads and climbing down the ladder to the lower level of the large crumbling structure.

Down below they could see the signs better; various fire pits set up here and there, empty buckets and drying trails of water close by, ash scattered around the area, and unmarked barrels that were probably filled with supplies. It was obvious by the looks of it that the Metal Heads who were camping out here had left not that long ago, which could mean they were still close by.

Jinx kept his guard up, signaling to Jak to do the same, before whispering. “I see ten bedrolls here. Safe to say we got some of those fuckers probably still close by, so watch yer six.”

Jak nodded and kept a hand close to his holster, ready to whip his gun out at a moment’s notice. He moved toward the bedrolls, investigating the area and seeing if anyone was lingering behind any walls or piles of rubble.

Meanwhile, Jinx was dropping the bag down and rummaging again, removing two sticky bombs and motioning for Jak to come take some. “I’ll take the left, you take the right.” He stood and moved, fixing one bomb to about the middle of the room near one of the barrels and the second to the far wall near the corner.

Jak did the same, one hidden near the exit of the lower floor, a shorter ladder than the one they had just climbed down, and another near the far-right corner of the room.

Again, they met back at the bag and Jak hefted it onto his shoulder, making his way to the shorter ladder. “I guess up this way? Unless you wanna go back the way we came.”

“Nah, this way is cool. According to Torn’s good ol’ directions, the next sites oughta be in the other big building across the way.”

“And the last two are in the tower, right?”

The smoker nodded. “Yup.”

Jak followed behind Jinx as they climbed up the ladder and onto the narrow platform. It led into a broken building that had no ceiling and barely any walls. To their left was a series of crumbling stone pathways and semi-standing walls, and at the far end of that was their destination—a massive building in width not height. Most of it was decayed and dropped into the water below, so the duo could see a surprising amount from where they stood.

Much like their first destination, this one showed signs of life but was devoid of it. They planted their bombs and continued their way to the tower, the tallest structure left standing in the old city sector. They had to backtrack some, taking a shortcut out of the far end of the huge building they were in and down to the ground level. They hopped over the water, crossing the bridge, and onto the dry spots of land until they were back at the beginning point with the city entrance in front of them and their first taken path now to their right. They traveled left, jumping over the land stepping stones and onto the sandy earth of the other side. Much like the rest of Dead Town, this area was dilapidated and falling apart. They had to climb onto walls and walk the narrow path over since the rest of the structure was swallowed up by the water.

The floor was uneven, and both men watched their steps as they crossed. The rest of the way until reaching the base of the tower was much the same; crossing broken pathways that were once walls, uneven stone bridges held the only way to get over the deep, cloudy water, and some platforms, when stepped on, even crumbled right under their boots, causing them to leap or face falling into the murk below.

Jinx cursed, head craning backwards as he stared at the large tower. “It didn’t look this tall when we were on the other side of the place. For fuck’s sake.”

“You sure we have to climb to the top? Can’t we just place bombs at the bottom and topple the whole thing?” Jak raised an eyebrow.

Jinx turned to look at him, eyes narrowed in thought as he mulled over the younger blond’s words. “Hm. Y’know. Fuck it. Yeah, let’s do that. Sure beats climbing to the top just to blow some shit up. ‘Sides, what if some baddies are up there lurkin’, ey? Then we just killed a couple with a surprising bang, and I like the sound of that.”

Setting down the bag, Jak knelt and counted out their remaining sticky bombs. “Looks like we have eight left. How many did we start with?”

“Fuck if I know. A lot?”

Jak shrugged and picked up four of the bombs from the remaining bunch, looking at his companion. “I guess I’ll place these and you place the rest? Might climb the tower a little bit to get some up high.”

“Aight, sounds like a plan to me.” Jinx picked up one bomb, then lifted the bag over his shoulder.

Jak headed to the right to make his way up the side of the decaying structure, but he hesitated before he got too far and looked back at his friend. “You don’t think this’ll draw too much attention, do you? Like, from the Baron or even the Metal Heads?”

“From the Baron, yeah. From the Metal Heads? Maybe. But who cares? We’re out here to make a statement, so let’s make it as loud as we can.” The demolitions expert shot him a thumbs up before moving to the left side and kneeling. He placed a bomb near the base hidden behind a piece of rubble and partially out of view.

Jak shrugged and continued along, placing his own bomb at the base of the steps before continuing upwards. Passing over broken pieces, leaping over gaps in the staircase, and nearly falling from a loose stone, Jak slowly climbed upwards and placed his half of the bombs along the tower. He hadn’t realized how close to the top he’d made it until he was on his last bomb and peeking into the uppermost room of the structure.

Just as the thought of how the view up here would be an ideal location for reconnaissance, electronic voices met Jak’s ears. His heart began to beat erratically as he backpedaled and found a good place to hide, unsure where the voices were coming from or if they were heading his way.

His ‘hiding’ spot was simply stashing himself behind a fallen piece of debris, keeping his head low, the bomb out of sight, and his weapon drawn as he sat still and listened.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Precursors be damned.” The first altered voice reached the Havenite’s ears, causing them to twitch.

“Larry, calm your tits, will ya?” A second voice joined in accompanied by a sigh.

“ _You_ calm your _tits_ , Boris.” The first Metal Head spat back, the sound of his footsteps on the smooth stone floor echoed through the semi-closed off room.

“It ain’t nothin’ to get worked up over, so knock it off.”

“It is too! Fuck, Boris, come on. You saw ‘em creeping around out there! And I think they came this way.”

Larry sighed again, a _thump_ sounding before footsteps followed. “Look, we’ll share it with the boss, okay? Should be back soon. Just wonder why those Havenite’s are snooping around. They shouldn’t even know we’re out here. At least there’re only two of ‘em, so if they _do_ come up here they’ll get a little surprise.”

Jak rolled his eyes, a smirk creeping onto his face. Oh, yeah, _someone_ will be getting a surprise before long. But the next words out of the Metal Heads caused the blond some alarm.

“A few here and there aren’t so bad, and with the boss moving along with his plans, it won’t be long before Haven is under his thumb, anyway.”

Although the temptation to sneak around the corner and blow both soldiers’ brains out was bubbling on the surface, Jak chose instead to fix the bomb as quietly as he could close to the doorway, if it could be called a doorway, and then retreat. He met Jinx halfway down and in a hushed tone, told him of his findings.

“Fuck, seriously? Who knows how long we have until they decide to attack us, then.” Jinx sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Hopefully enough time to prepare, but I have a feeling it’ll be soon.”

“Only thing we can do is spread the news and hope, I ‘spose. Let’s keep moving. We’re almost done.”

Quickly placing their remaining two bombs, the duo retreated to the entrance of Haven and out of sight of the tower.

“Aight, ya wanna do the honors, Jakkie boy?”

Sticking his hand out for the remote, Jak nodded, a dark glint in his eye. “Fuck yes.”

Jinx, who noticed the unusual look, passed the device over to him regardless. “A little, uh, thrilled to be killing some folks, aren’t ya?”

“If it’s a Metal Head, then yeah. After what they did—” The younger blond didn’t finish his thought, instead shaking his head and triggering the detonation of the sticky bombs without a second thought.

Jak almost considered this a kindness. He wanted them to suffer as much as he had, but it wasn’t possible to do that, at least not right now.

Jinx didn’t say a word on the odd behavior or comments, even though the younger of the two knew that the urge to do so was there.

As the explosions went off and shook the earth below them, the creaking and snapping of stonework and wood breaking from the force, Jak rose and stretched out his shoulders, his expression stoic as he watched from the safety of their hiding place.

It was cathartic watching the destruction. Dead Town had long since been of no use to them anyway, even before the Metal Heads decided to make it their home, but knowing that any good campsite was complete rubble made him feel a little better.

“Let’s get back. Pretty sure Torn would like to know that the Metal Heads are gonna be moving in soon.” Jak made way for the gate just behind them as Jinx quickly trotted to keep up with him.

The older blond sent his comrade a curious look, but kept quiet as they made their journey back to the Underground headquarters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to Solziv for beta reading!  
> I know I've mentioned this before, but it's been awhile and I wanna say it again. If you like the pairing of Jak and Taryn, be sure to check out Solziv's story "Catalyst" as well as some other short stories they've written! "Catalyst" is what inspired me to write "Battle Born," and it's also what got me into this pairing to begin with haha  
> I've still got a few more chapters ahead of this that just need a last read through/minor fixings, but I'm trying to keep those spaced out so I can get more chapters written and edited to try and keep some semblance of a posting order. 
> 
> Hope you like this update! Like I think I mentioned last chapter, the darker themes I have planned will be soon cropping up. Same with some much needed explanation/backstory regarding several things.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Abs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007868) by [Solziv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solziv/pseuds/Solziv)
  * [Utensil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162395) by [Solziv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solziv/pseuds/Solziv)
  * [Myth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13316508) by [Solziv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solziv/pseuds/Solziv)




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